


Twist Story (a long way out of a Twisted mess)

by rainoverthemountains



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Medical Ethics, Brothers, Flashbacks, Force-Feeding, Gaslighting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ignoring/Minimizing Triggers, Internalized Victim Blaming, LV Cure, M/M, Making The Best of a Bad Situation, Medical Experimentation, Needles, Painful Medical Treatment, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Reference To Suicidal Thoughts, Restraints, everyone's trauma just keeps getting pushed to the surface, friends - Freeform, soul manipulation, starts with hurt and works its way towards comfort, tags don't apply to all chapters, these boys are a mess but they're trying anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2020-10-26 03:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 45
Words: 238,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20735855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainoverthemountains/pseuds/rainoverthemountains
Summary: There’s a cure for LV (probably). It’s completely safe (probably). It’s a highly unpleasant experience (definitely). Twist only cares about that first statement. He probably should have paid a little more attention to the other two. But what does it matter? He’s getting what he wants, and he has the best friends and family in any universe to help along the way.(Those friends and family might disagree about how much it matters, but who made them the experts on good decision making? They'll work it all out somehow or other. Eventually.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Undertale AU: Twistfell](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036044) by [Lady_Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/pseuds/Lady_Kit). 

> This story is based on the Twistfell AU by Lady_Kit. It was directly inspired by Bucket List, which is posted as part of her fic Untertale AU: Twistfell on Ao3, and also draws from various other stories of hers involving the Twistfell boys. If you've found this story before reading hers, you really should go read hers because they are amazing.
> 
> This story was first posted on tumblr, where I'm also rainoverthemountains.
> 
> Please let me know if there are any tags I should add.

“Gah! What the hell is their problem? Don’t they realize what I have here?” Iggy snarls at the review panel’s response to her official report, slamming her bowl of ramen on the desk before sheepishly wiping up the noodles that spill over the side. After the sudden increase in funding from an anonymous donor, the LV reduction project has progressed beyond her wildest dreams. She’d honestly been losing hope just a few months ago, but access to any resources she can imagine has changed things. Well, access to resources and a little creative bending of surface laws on ethical treatment of research subjects.

“Those damn laws,” she growls. She’d looked into them at the urging of her Taleverse counterparts, and, fine, maybe some of her methods are just a _little_ bit illegal here. But those laws just don’t take into account the importance of her work! Following all of the required procedures could delay the project for years, maybe decades. Monsters don’t want to wait decades to get rid of LV, and that includes her research subjects. A few might have melted in the process, but that was only in the beginning and those monsters were too far gone into their LV to care anyway. Besides, that problem is long since solved. While her more recent subjects didn’t particularly enjoy the treatment, they all came out of it alive and with lower LV. They got what they wanted, however much they might have complained along the way. The point is, she’s created the impossible, a drug that can dissolve LV without dissolving the rest of the monster. 

“It doesn’t even do any permanent damage to the subject’s soul anymore! What can they possibly have to complain about now?” she mutters, reading further into the report.

“‘Promising, but requires further testing,’ my ass.” She’s done the testing. She’s shown that it works. The subject pool is a little limited, but the trends are consistent and easily extrapolated. Of course, ‘Extrapolation outside the range of available data is not sufficiently reliable to support approval for mass production,’ according to several reviewers. 

“Well, maybe they have a point there,” she allows. “A slight one.” Extrapolating from an LV of 9, the highest of her successful test subjects so far, to the full range of monsters who need the treatment might be going a little too far. 

“Well what am I supposed to do about it?” she exclaims, throwing up her hands in exasperation. They want all research participation to be voluntary, but they also want the treatment tested on high-LV monsters. “Have they ever _met_ a monster with high LV!?” They're not exactly the most cooperative research subjects. Some of them might _say_ they want to get rid of their LV, but just try sticking a needle in their soul and see how long they keep cooperating. An uncooperative high-LV monster can cause a _lot _of trouble. She shudders. There’s no way she’s dealing with _that _again. Then there’s the subjective data. Monsters on the edge of losing their minds are terrible at answering questions about the experience during treatment, and the panel refuses to accept her results without some form of patient report.

Ugh. Those self-righteous assholes want to deny her brilliant, revolutionary cure to all of monster-kind on the basis of a few technicalities. She taps her claws against the desk, fuming. “There has to be a way around this.” If she can just find someone, anyone, with high LV who is reasonably sane and would be motivated enough or have little enough sense of self-preservation to be a cooperative research subject…

Oh. Well of course there’s Papyrus. Well, a Papyrus, the one from her universe. The crazy one who goes by Twist now. That bastard has been on the edge of losing it for years but has never quite tipped over that edge. She nearly had him a few years ago, back when she first started her work underground, but his brother talked him out of it. Undyne kept trying to convince the little fluff ball for her, but eventually they’d given up. But now… Things are different now. Not with the fluff ball, but if she can just go _around _the fluff ball…

Twist is losing his mind. Anyone even tangentially acquainted with that multi-universal pack of skeletons knows that. Anyone with any basic understanding of LV should know that. The fact that he’s kept it mostly together this long suggests a level of determination or attachment or stubbornness or _something_ that most monsters don’t have. Maybe enough of it to actually go through with the treatment? And based on some of the stunts she’s heard of, a high sense of self-preservation won’t be a problem. So, highly motivated, unlikely to be scared away by any necessary unpleasantness, really not much to lose given the deadline he has to know he’s living under, and LV high enough that no one can say she’s extrapolating outside the range of her data. He’s perfect. Now she just has to get to him where no one else will have a chance to talk him out of it, at least until it’s too late to change his mind.

***

All that being said, it seems best to approach Twist at work, away from all the others. Undyne still keeps track of all possible troublemakers from their universe so it’s easy to find out where he works. That’s how she finds herself greeting a pair of skeletal legs sticking out from underneath a car.

“Twist? Is that you under the car?” she calls.

“Yep, I’m the only skeleton workin’ here so if yer talkin’ to a skeleton under a car it’s prob’ly me.” He rolls out from under the car and waves. “Heya, Iggy. Whatcha doin’ ‘round here? Havin’ car trouble? We’ll getcha fixed up in no time.”

“No, no car trouble. Actually, I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” Twist teases with raised brow bones, “well now ya got my interest. Does yer girl know ‘bout this proposal? I’m up fer anythin’, but I’m not so sure she is.”

“Not that kind of proposal!” Fellverse monsters shouldn’t blush this easily.

“What kind of proposal it is, then? Does everyone have ta be dressed, or is that negotiable?”

“It’s not that kind of proposal! Forget that I said the word proposal. It has nothing to do with a proposal. Can you please try to be serious for one minute?”

“Proposals can be very serious.” Iggy glares and Twist grins. “Fine, fine, what’s this not-proposal ya got fer me?”

“You know what I’ve been working on since Asriel’s coronation, don’t you?”

Twist's teasing air vanishes. “I do. Think I’ve told ya before that I’m not really in’erested in meltin’, though.”

“Oh, no, the research is way past that point. No one’s melted in months, well, I mean a little bit, but not _melted_, melted, and I’ve got that part worked out too. Actually, that’s what I came here to tell you. I’ve found a cure!”

Twist’s jaw drops. “What? Ya found… what?”

“A cure for LV! Money from a new major donor gave me access to equipment and materials that I never dreamed of underground, which let me break through a few major obstacles that have stumped me for years, and now the treatment is already in clinical trials and it works! It really works!”

Twist stumbles against the car and decides to sit down before his legs give out beneath him. “Are, are ya serious?” Iggy nods enthusiastically. “Yer not exaggeratin’, or brushin’ over some technicalities, or playin’ some sick practical joke ‘cause I swear if you are ya won’ leave this place alive, or…”

“No, no, no, none of that. It’s not an easy cure like ‘take a pill, then get all better right away’ easy, and like I said, it’s still in clinical trials so it’s not approved for the mass market yet, but it’s real and it works.”

“When can I have it?”

“Once it makes it through clinical trials it will have to be approved by a review board and the sovereigns, so whenever all that is done is when it will be available to the general public.” She’s got him. She’s definitely got him. Now is the time to reel him in.

“An’ when’ll that be?

“I don’t know. The real holdup is the clinical trials. I need to show that it’s safe and effective in monsters across the whole range of possible LV, and volunteers with high LV are hard to find. The highest I’ve had so far is 9.” Twist’s eye sockets narrow. He’s clearly caught on to what she’s doing.

“An’ I suppose ya came here today hopin’ ta find a volunteer.”

“Well, yes. I didn’t think you’d mind. It would give you access to the treatment months or even years earlier than you’d have it otherwise and I know LV is a particularly time-sensitive issue for you.” 

“Mhmm. Can’t deny ya’ve got a point there. An’ can ya guarantee I won’t melt?”

“Absolutely no melting. I’m not saying the treatment will be fun. It’s actually pretty painful and can go on for days, even weeks to get rid of as much LV as you have. You’ll probably want to come up with something to tell your friends and family unless you want them worrying about you the whole time. But won’t it be worth it to come home free of LV and having paved the way for everyone else to be free of LV too?”

“So that’s the whole story, huh? I come with you, get this ‘treatment,’ be miserable fer a few weeks an’ then I‘m cured? Why do I think yer leavin’ somethin’ out?”

“I’m really not. I mean, I haven’t explained every detail, but I will if you come back to the lab with me. I’ll explain the whole process and you can back out at any time before we start, but I know you’re not going to want to because I know you want this. Come on, do you really want to wait around until you hurt someone or lose your mind? I’ve worked with plenty of monsters who lost themselves to their LV-”

“An’ melted quite a few of ‘em.”

“-and that’s not something you want to go through, or put your little brother through. I know you two are close. Just imagine what it would be like for him if one day you attack him, or if he finds out you just went crazy one day and you’re never coming back, or if you kill yourself to keep that from happening.”

“Ok, yes, I get it! I don’ need ta hear it, I already know all that shit!”

“Now imagine coming home to him and telling him truthfully that none of that is ever going to happen, that all of your LV is gone and you can live the rest of your lives without ever worrying about it again. Imagine the same for your friends, each of them losing the LV that’s been weighing on them or their loved ones for years. Imagine what it’ll do for monster-human relations when humans can no longer point to high LV monsters to prove that all monsters are dangerous and shouldn’t have any rights. Imagine-”

“That’s enough! Ya think I don’ know what gettin’ rid of LV would mean? Think I don’ think about it every fuckin’ day?”

“I know you do. That’s why I know you want this. If you want to eliminate LV, and I know you do, then come help me get rid of it. We have the power to do something completely, unequivocally good, here. Just come to my lab and we can do it. We can do it today!”

“Okay.”

“You know you want to-”

“I said okay!” Twist snaps. “You can stop yer grand speech. ‘M convinced. Let’s go cure LV. Jus’ lemme finish with this car an’ I’ll go take off work an’ tell my bro I'm goin' on vacation fer awhile. He’ll be annoyed I didn’t warn him but he won’ be that surprised that I went off on some random trip.”


	2. Chapter 2

It doesn’t take long to finish the car, sign out of work, and head to the lab. Iggy hands Twist a pile of paperwork on a clipboard as soon as they arrive. “Here, just sign these and we can get started. I’ve already filled in all the subject-specific information for you, so you just need to sign where I highlighted and-”

“Now wait just a minute, sweetheart.” Twist frowns. “'m not just gonna sign a bunch of papers with no clue what I’m signin’. Gimme a sec’ ta look through ‘em first.” He turns to the first page and scowls at all the medical and legal jargon. “Not ‘xactly user-friendly, huh? You’d almost think someone was tryin’ ta hide somethin’ in here.”

“Oh don’t be silly.” Iggy waves him off. “That’s just how these are always written, just a bunch of legal requirements to make sure everything is written out precisely for the review board. Most of it is nothing you need to worry about.” 

Twist snorts at that suggestion. “Think I’ll decide that fer myself, darlin’.”

“Fine, suit yourself, but I doubt you’ll get much out of it.” Sighing, she crosses the room to check on another project. This could take a while.

Twist resumes reading, frowning in concentration. The frown worsens as he re-reads the same paragraph several times, finally stopping to rub his sockets in frustration. Iggy glances back towards where he’s standing.

“Are you really trying to read the whole thing?”

“Yep.” He already sounds defeated, though.

“Do you read every word of everything you sign?”

“Nah, but the meltin’ thing makes me think I should look a little more closely at this one.”

“Okay, I mean, that makes sense, it really does, and normally I’d say that’s a really smart thing to do, but it doesn’t seem like the best idea right now.”

“Ya seem pretty insistent on that, sweetheart. Sure there’s not somethin’ in here ya don’t want me ta see?”

“No, no, no, nothing like that, it’s just… I mean… can you actually read it? I mean not that I don’t think you can read! It just seems like it’s taking a while, and it’s got a lot of technical terms, and how long are you really wanting to wait for the treatment? I mean you could take it home and spend however long you need to read it all, but wouldn’t you rather go ahead and get started and avoid taking that risk? What if something happened before we could get started?”

“Could get someone else ta look at it. I’ve got some friends who could probly figure it out.”

“And what would those friends say about you being here? What if they don’t approve? Then they’ll either talk you out of it or you’ll get in an argument, and is that really what you want?”

Twist's sockets narrow. "Yer awfully determined ta keep this a secret. Sure this is somethin’ yer really s’posed ta be doin’?” Blackberry would throw a fit if this was half as dangerous as it seems like it might be, but Edge would be more reasonable, or Cash. Papyrus might be able to figure it out too, but he might be a little too worried about the ‘dangerous’ part. “It doesn’t seem like the kinda thing that needs ta be done in secret, unless there’s somethin’ goin’ on that yer not tellin’ me.”

“It’s not a secret! It’s just easier if no one’s around to argue about it.”

“Who’s gonna argue? Not like curin’ LV’s a controversial issue.”

“No, but the treatment is unpleasant, and still a little experimental, and family members tend to complain about that kind of thing, even when it’s in the subject’s, er, patient’s, best interest. It’s way too easy for someone to get upset about something and interfere with the protocol, which can interfere with the results. Everything runs more smoothly with no one around with any emotional investment.” Well _that's_ reassuring.

“So what’d’ya suggest? Signin’ off on somethin’ that could be donatin’ my body ta science, fer all I know?” Everything about the whole setup seems like a bad idea. On the other hand, it’s a cure for LV. What choice does he have? It’s not like he has ten years to wait around for another one.

“What about a compromise? I’ll tell you the highlights of each page, and you can look at the page while I’m talking so you can see I’m not making anything up, and then you sign it?”

“Pretty easy ta brush over anything ya want me ta ignore when it’s all written like that, darlin’.” His resistance is fading, though. What if it works? The lure of an impossible future is calling, and really, what else is he going to do?

“It’s the best you’re going to get,” she echoes his thoughts.

Now he’s the one who sighs. “Fine, fine, start with this overview section. Seems like there’s stuff I need ta know in there, but it’s mostly nonsense.”

“Sure, just let me pick out the key points.” She scans through the section. “Ok, here’s what you need to know.”

“A newly developed drug containing a compound specifically formulated to dissolve LV will be injected directly into your soul. The compound will gradually diffuse throughout your soul, dissolving concentrations of LV while theoretically leaving the rest of your soul untouched. Your treatment has been calibrated to specifically target LV 17 to minimize its effects on the rest of your soul, so when your LV drops below 17 the treatment will stop until I administer a new dose. Once the drug has been administered it can’t be stopped until your LV decreases, at which point you will be given the option to have the drug re-administered or discontinue treatment. Known side effects include pain, fever, weakness, confusion, disorientation, hallucinations, delusions, emotional instability, and possible significant HP loss which can be corrected with magic infusions. All side effects are temporary, and LV reduction is stable over time. All you have to do is let me administer the treatment, let yourself be monitored throughout the treatment, and answer occasional questions regarding your subjective experience. Signing here indicates that you’ve been given this information and you understand it.”

“Well that sounds fun.” Twist signs in the highlighted section. “Got it so far. Why’d that take three pages ta write? Never mind, keep goin’ so we can get started.” Not like there’s any point in looking for anything she might have skipped. He’s going to agree. What else can he do?

They go through each section in the same way, a bunch of jargon that Twist has trouble following even in summary form, until finally they reach the end.

“Signing here means you consent to the treatment and to being part of the research study.” 

Twist barely hesitates before signing. “Let’s get going, sweetheart!” His grin is a little strained, but still genuine. Getting rid of his LV will be worth whatever shit he has to go through to do it.

“Great, then let’s get started.”

***

“Take off your clothes, then lie down. Get in bed, get comfortable; you’re going to be here a while.”

“Didn’t know ya felt that way ‘bout me, sweetheart. If ya wanted ta get me in bed all ya had ta do was ask! No need ta wait for an excuse! I’m up fer anythin’.” Twist grins while complying, not looking too closely at any strange equipment scattered around the lab.

Iggy maintains a strictly professional tone, clearly determined not to let Twist’s nonsense interrupt her work. “Good, now manifest your soul.”

“Now wait a minute, don’t ya think this’s movin’ a little fast fer a first date?” Twist jokes nervously.

“I need access to your soul to administer the treatment. Please manifest your soul so we can get started.”

“Okay, okay, no need ta be so pushy.” Twist manifests his soul inside his ribcage.

“How am I supposed to work with that? Do you want me working inside your chest?”

“Darlin’, you can work inside any part a me…”

“Stop.” She glares. “We aren’t here to flirt, we’re here to get rid of your LV. Do you want this cure or not? I can find some other experimental subject if you aren’t willing to cooperate, and you can wait around until this is approved for mass distribution. That is, assuming you can even last that long. You wouldn’t have agreed to this if you were confident in your own self-control.”

“Okay! I get yer point. Fine, have it.” He re-manifests his soul outside of his ribcage. “Don’t usually show it ta anyone. ‘s kinda a mess.” He suddenly feels very vulnerable and exposed in a way that he hadn’t from getting undressed. He can’t even count the number of monsters who have seen him naked, and plenty of those are associated with good times. The same can’t be said for exposing his soul.

It’s worth it, he reminds himself. Anything that happens will be worth it. It’s not a big deal. Just like going to the doctor. This whole thing is a medical procedure. Just let her have it. Before he can, she reaches out and takes it. He’s heard some monsters say letting someone they love touch their soul is one of the most intimate things they’ve ever experienced. This just feels like a violation. <strike>Nothing new, he’s dealt with worse before</strike>. There’s nothing he can do about it. She has it now and he won’t back out for anything, so he just needs to stay calm, just detach from the situation. 

Detaching gets a lot harder once Iggy starts poking around for a crack or weak point in the calcification to get the monitor wires into his soul. “This is some of the thickest calcification I’ve ever seen, at least on a soul that’s still functioning correctly!”

“That’d be the 17 LV for ya. Not a pretty sight.” He grins darkly, more embarrassed than amused, but it is funny to see how surprised such a self-proclaimed expert on LV can be at seeing that LV as high as his affects a monster’s soul.

“How are you even able to function? This much calcification should affect emotional range, self-regulation, reasoning capacity, everything! The whole body-soul interface should be disrupted!”

“Why d’ya think I’m here?”

“Right, right, I know. I’m just surprised. I shouldn’t be. It’s just… The amount of effort it must take to function in any way remotely resembling normal!” She shakes her head, actually seeming somewhat impressed. “But enough of that. That’s what we’re here to fix, so let’s get on with it.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. An’ if ya could stop squeezin’ my soul while we’re at it, I’d ‘preciate it.”

“What? Oh, sorry. Unfortunately, I’m actually going to have to squeeze it some more for the next part. There’s no way I’m getting wires or a needle through all this so I’m going to have to break it up and remove it.”

“Shit. Well, okay, if that’s what ya gotta do.” No one said this would be easy. Worth it, though. It has to be worth it.

“Will you be able to control yourself well enough to let me do it or will you need to be restrained?”

“No! I mean, I can control m’self. I’ll be fine. No need fer any restraints. None.” He glares at her. “Wasn’t in the agreement. I don’t agree ta that.” Well, it probably wasn’t in the agreement. Not like he has any way of knowing for sure, but surely she would have mentioned that part. 

He searches for something to brace himself against and finds low metal bars along both sides of the bed. They look strong enough to at least take some effort to break. <strike>Why are there bars on a hospital bed maybe he should be concerned</strike>. Laying back against the thin pillow, he grips the bars tightly and holds back his protest as Iggy carries his soul over to a lab bench. His eyes remain locked on his soul as she holds it in one hand to open a drawer with the other. If she drops it… If she drops it, he’ll be fine. There won’t be any intent behind it, and he can handle a little soul damage. It’ll be worth it. No doubt about it. A cure for LV is worth anything anyone can do to him. Anything. Even…

He cringes as she sits his soul down on the countertop to free up both hands for digging through the drawers. That… you don’t _do_ that with souls! The cold seeping in from the counter makes him shiver. In that moment he’s almost grateful for the protection of the calcification. The feeling of the countertop against his bare soul would be disgusting. Worth it, though. Still worth it. Whatever she needs to do is worth it <strike>and how exactly is leaving his soul lying around on a countertop necessary to cure his LV?</strike>

“Hey, uh, if ya don’ need that right now I can hold onto it fer a while. I’d rather ya not…” He struggles to keep his voice steady. She’s helping him. He never expected her to be considerate about it.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll need it in a minute. Just as soon as I find that clamp. I could’ve sworn it was in the center drawer.” His soul scrapes against the bench top as she pushes it aside to make room for the contents of the drawer she’s emptying. That… is not a good feeling. His grip on the bars tightens. Where does she get off treating his soul like some fucking paperweight? He doesn’t have to put up with this. Who does she think she’s fucking with here? He could just…

No. Absolutely not. She’s not an enemy and she’s not attacking him. It doesn’t matter what she does to his soul. He can take a little discomfort. Monsters don’t dust through carelessness. There is no intent. There can’t possibly be any intent. She’s trying to help him. He agreed to this. It’s worth it.

This time she picks up his soul to set it behind the growing pile on the counter to move on to the next drawer. Out of sight, the unfamiliar sensations are even more threatening to his increasingly agitated mind. He grits his teeth until they creak as his focus narrows onto the hands that keep touching him, keep pushing him around like they’re in charge, like he’s theirs to do whatever the fuck they want with, like he’s helpless like he’s already been defeated he’ll show her who’s helpless he’ll- 

No. No. There are no enemies here. Iggy isn’t the enemy. She’s helping him. She’s curing him. She’s like a doctor. He isn’t so far gone that he’ll attack his doctor. He knows why he’s here. It’s his choice. It’s worth it. Still, his eyelight remains locked on his <strike>captor</strike>doctor.

“Ah hah! Found it!” Her voice is grating as she pulls something metallic from one of the drawers. “This will help me break through the calcification without doing much damage to the interior. It’s much better to do it this way than manually because it’s easier to control the amount of force applied, and the treatment itself does enough damage to the soul without starting out with any unnecessary bruising or deep lacerations.” She sets something on the counter that looks like a clamp with hundreds of little curved teeth. His soul is not going anywhere near that thing.

“Give. It. Back.” his voice grates harshly.

***

“Just a minute. I just need to break up the calcification so I can peel if off, then I can put in the wires and give you the injection, and then I’ll put it right back where I found it, promise.” She turns back to give him a reassuring smile, only to freeze at the sharpened bones inches from her chest.

“Give. It. Back. Now.” He’s out of the bed, tensed for an attack, eyelight shrunken to a pinprick and broken socket leaking magic. It looks like the situation is a little more critical than she thought. Not totally out of control; she’s been working with monsters who’ve lost themselves for years, but most of them don’t start off calmly chatting while unrestrained in the same room as her. Why didn’t she involve Undyne in this one? She should know better. Panic wells up in her chest, but she forces it back down.

Too late to get Undyne now; she’ll have to save herself. Fighting a monster with his stats does not have a high probability of success. Is he still capable of reasoning? He was a few minutes ago, but how long ago did it start going downhill? She has to admit she wasn’t really paying attention. He hasn’t actually attacked yet, so it’s worth a try.

“You know attacking me won’t get you want you want. Do you remember why you’re here?” He doesn’t respond, but doesn’t attack either, so she continues. “You’re here so I can cure your LV. So you don’t have to deal with problems like this anymore. Remember? I’m trying to help you.”

“Don’ see much help happenin’ ‘ere. Mostly see some bitch thinkin’ she c’n play around with my soul.” The bones inch closer. Iggy flinches back and raises Twist’s soul as protection against an attack, hoping he’s still close enough to in control to care about self-preservation. He glares, but the bones stop moving forward, suggesting that he is.

“If you attack me, you’re never going to get the LV cure. Or I’ll lock you up like the other monsters who lost themselves and you can go through the treatment in a cell.”

“Jus’ try it.” His eyelight flares but he still doesn’t move.

“I don’t have to try anything. I’m holding your soul. I _can _lock you up. I’m also the only one with the treatment. I _can_ refuse to give it to you. If you kill me, the treatment will die with me and you’ll still never have it.” Twist snarls, but the bone attack doesn’t move any closer, so she continues.

“You have three choices. Try to kill me, and get locked up with or without the treatment. Back out of the study, and get no treatment. Or put those bones away and cooperate, and never be affected by LV again. Is that worth the effort to get yourself under control?”

“Worth-?” Twist gives a full body shudder and the bones back off a few inches. “Worth it? Shit,” he gasps. He buries his face in his hands. “I…” Iggy lets herself relax slightly, and he shoots to attention at the sound of her shifting. “Don’t. Move.” he bites out. Iggy stills instantly. “Unless ya still wanna fight.” A manic grin splits his face.

“I never wanted to fight in the first place. I’m trying to help you. You were trying to get yourself under control for the LV treatment, remember?” If she can just get him to release the bone attacks she can get out of here.

“Right,” he sighs, hands returning to his face. “Right. ‘m tryna calm down.” Claws digging into his skull, he focuses on breathing.

“Not very good at calmin’ down,” he admits.

“I can see that. Maybe try letting these bones go?” Iggy suggests nervously.

“Huh? Oh, those. Sure. Don’ try anythin’.” He glares at her while releasing the bones.

“What would I try? I’m not attacking you. I never was.” Maybe it would be best not to argue with him, but it seems like an important point to keep making.

“Well don’t.” His hands return to his face, rubbing what may have meant to be soothing circles on the sides of his skull but seem more likely to cut his face open.

“Would it help if I gave your soul back?” she asks tentatively.

“What? Give me that!” he demands, already reaching to put it back in his chest. 

Having his soul in place does seem to calm him. Iggy takes the chance to start backing out of the room, but Twist notices.

“Wait!” She freezes at his shout. “Wait. Don’t ya need this?” He re-manifests his soul and holds it out to her.

She shakes her head. “Um… you keep it for now.”

“But it’s not ready for the treatment. Don’cha need ta get it ready?” His hostility has been almost entirely displaced by confusion and a hint of desperation.

“I think we should wait a little while. Don’t you want to calm down first?” she suggests, reluctant to do anything that might produce that reaction again.

“No!” he gasps, horrified. “Ya can’t… please don’ make me wait! I need it! Can’t ya see I need it?”

“And you’ll get it!” she reassures. “Just not right now. I really think we should wait for a little while, give you a chance to calm down and me a chance to come up with a better plan.”

“No, please, I need it. I can’t believe how fast that came on. I wasn’t even mad, jus’ kinda freakin’ out, an' then 'm tryna kill ya? What if I was home with my bro? I can… I can avoid fights, but I can’t avoid every single thing that might bother me. Please. I don’ care what it takes. Even… even lock me up if ya gotta.” He shudders. “I won’ blame ya, darlin'. Jus’… do what ya need ta do. I won’ fight it. I need this. Ya know I need this.” Iggy certainly hadn’t expected to ever hear him beg. She can feel a small amount of compassion welling up for him. Only a little; he did just try to kill her, after all, but isn’t this the whole point of the project?

“Okay, okay, we’ll do it now. You won’t even be dangerous once the drug starts to work. We just need to get through the administration phase. Now about locking you up, would that even help? Locking you in a cell would be too much separation between you and your soul. I don’t want to risk any unnecessary damage on a mostly intact soul, and I’m really not set up to work in that part of the lab right now. Our other option is chaining you to the bed,” Twist’s fists clench but he otherwise doesn’t react, “but you refused that earlier and it wouldn’t do anything to prevent bone attacks.”

“Might even make ‘em worse,” Twist agrees. “Don’ really react well ta bein’ tied down.” 

“Well, then, that just leaves us with you controlling yourself until I can get the injection in. Can you do that? It didn’t work so well before.”

“Yeah. I can do it. Jus’ don’ spend so much time messin’ around this time. That’s when I started ta lose it. I c’n hold on fer a little while.”

“I wasn’t messing around! I was looking for equipment that I didn’t know I’d need. Would you rather I’d tried to break it open by hand? You wouldn’t be in good shape by now.”

“Jus’ sayin’ ya could stand ta be a little more organized.”

“You’re awfully critical for someone who needs my help. I didn’t realize your soul would be such a mess or I’d have already had it prepared. “

“Really? Thought ya’d been workin’ with high-LV monsters fer years. Ya really didn’t realize my soul’d be fucked up?” he scoffs.

“Not that badly. Every other soul I’ve seen in that condition belonged to a monster who’d already lost their mind, and I didn’t need to be so careful about avoiding damage.”

“‘Cause you were jus’ plannin’ ta melt them anyway, right, sweetheart?”

“I didn’t _plan_ to melt anyone. It was an unfortunate side effect of the early forms of the treatment which I resolved as soon as I could. If you have such a problem with it, you can just go home and-”

“No!” Twist interrupts, panicked. “Sorry, no, sorry, didn’t mean ta argue with ya. LV must still be actin’ up. Makes me wanna pick fights over stupid shit. I want the treatment. Don’ wanna go home. Please, I’ll shut my mouth an’ you can do what ya want.”

“That’ll be the day. But fine.” She sighs. “You can have the treatment if you can keep yourself under control long enough for me to give it to you. Don’t attack me, and don’t pick fights. And _tell_ me if you feel like you’re losing control. We can find another way to do this if we have to and I’m not going to stop treating you just because you give me a heads up that you’re starting to feel like killing me.”

“Could try not tossin’ my soul around like a paperweight,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Nothin’, nothin’, jus’ get on with it.”

“Well hand it over, then.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Never thought ya’d ask.” He gets an eye-roll in response.

“I still need to get the calcification off. Get back in the bed and brace yourself; it’s not going to be any more fun than it would have been last time we tried this.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m assuming that even though they usually refer to each other by their nicknames, when under major stress or not thinking clearly the monsters tend to slip and refer to monsters they’ve known their whole lives by the names they grew up calling them. So when Twist refers to Sans, he’s talking about Blackberry, the Sans from his universe, not Undertale Sans, in case that’s not clear.

Twist obligingly climbs back into bed, forcing down every aggressive, or even defensive, thought that enters his mind. This is not the time to freak out.

“So what ‘xactly are ya gonna do, sweetheart? Maybe try a little warnin’ this time.”

Iggy takes his soul back over to the desk with the rather terrifying clamp, more carefully this time. “I told you, I need to break off some of this calcification so I can get the monitor wires in, and the needle for the injection.”

“And ya need _that_,” he grimaces as he points to the clamp, “ta do that? Don’ really seem necessary. Could probly break some off myself by hand if you don’ wanna do it.”

“No, no, this is much better for distributing the force and avoiding bruising, and we’d need some serious force to break through all of that. This way the blades slice in and take off most of it with very little pressure. Don’t worry, I’ve already optimized the procedure on other high-LV subjects-”

“And what’d they have ta say ‘bout it?”

“-and this way is by far the best for avoiding complications from excessive calcification,” she finishes with a glare for the interruption.

“Fine, fine, jus’… jus’ get it over with, then.” He lays down on his side, facing her so he can see, then clenches his sockets shut, then realizes that’s worse than watching, so he opens them again. 

He jolts when she sets his soul in the clamp. Sensations are dull through the calcification, but he can still feel little razor sharp teeth digging into the surface. He rolls onto his back to grip the bars on both sides of the bed. No need to freak out. He’s had worse before. This is nothing compared to what will happen if he keeps going the way he is. It’s worth it. A cure is worth anything. Absolutely anything. There’s nothing she could do that wouldn’t be worth-

“Fuck!” he shouts as the clamp closes and twists, tiny razor blades digging in and slicing, hooking in somehow and tearing the hardened outer layer off of his soul. It’s over in a second that feels like an eternity, and then there are hands on it, pulling it off the fucking spikes, and he convulses as they shift and pinch, pulling off little chips and pieces that were left behind. It’s excruciating, and violating, and as soon as he gets control of his limbs he lunges, not stopping for an instant when he falls to the floor, crawling when he can’t gather the coordination to walk, furious, desperate to get it back, take it away from her, how is this happening? That part of his life is done, he doesn’t have to lie here and take this, he won’t take this, he’ll fucking kill her, doesn’t have to take this again, he’ll show her he’ll pay her back for everything she ever did, he’ll-

“Stop _right_ there!” a voice that isn’t _hers _commands, and the surprise of it is enough to jolt him partway out of his rage. “Move one more inch towards me, and I’ll rip your soul right in half!” She, Iggy, not Muffet, not any of the Muffets, there are no Muffets here, holds his soul out as if to demonstrate. He freezes, and remembers why he’s here. She had… she’d needed to get the calcification off, so she could get a needle in, so he could get the LV treatment he clearly needed, but…

“Why… what? Why did…?” With the adrenaline fading, shock sets in. He stares up at his exposed soul, its surface raw and bare looking, and can’t imagine what possible purpose there could be for that. He hates how it normally looks, but this is just wrong. She shouldn’t be touching it like this, she shouldn’t be touching it at all! She shouldn’t, he’ll make her stop, he’ll – No! Listen, she’s talking, maybe she’ll say why…

“I know it seems a little extreme, but it’ll be so much easier this way. It looks like a lot of damage, but it’s actually all on the surface, with no deep bruising at the core, which is what we really need to worry about because that’s where the medicine will work. I could have just taken off a little piece, but it’s just as easy to get it all off this way, and now it’ll take a lot longer to re-calcify so we’ll have more surface area to work with for longer, so we won’t have to do this again while the medicine is working, which would be a lot harder to do.”

That makes sense, except, “couldn’ta asked what I wanted? Or at least warned me?”

“Would you have cooperated? You barely cooperated as it is. Now, are you done trying to kill me? If so, we should get you back in bed so we can get on with the treatment.” She holds his soul in one hand as she reaches the other down to help him up.

“Be careful with that!” he snarls, patience gone. “Ya keep threatenin’ me with it, but at this rate, yer gonna drop it an’ dust me by accident.” Steadying himself on the lab bench, he pulls himself up and staggers back to the bed.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worked with a lot of souls over the past few years and I’ve never dropped one.”

Twist snorts. “Whatever. Got any more plans ta make me try‘n kill ya, or are we ‘bout ready ta get on with it? Not sure how many more times that ‘I’ll break yer soul’ shit’s gonna work if ya keep breakin’ it anyway.”

“It’s not broken, just a little more exposed than you’re used to. But you’re right, we should get on with this. Just let me get the monitor wires in and then I’ll give you the injection.”

After the removal of the calcification, the wires are surprisingly painless. Just a small twinge, and then he’s treated to the disturbing sight of his soul with wires sticking out of it. Looking at it too long makes him slightly nauseous, but he isn’t looking away after all that.

“Whatcha need ta monitor, anyway?” Do monsters have vital signs to keep track of? He doesn’t actually know.

“HP, mostly, and I’ll be tracking some stats that won’t mean anything yet, but will help me map the course of the treatment once I correlate them with my other data. That part’s not anything you need to worry about, just know that I’ll be tracking your HP and I have plenty of doses for direct magic infusions when it gets low. Of course, it’s best to keep it high enough with food that you won’t need any infusions, but it’s important to have them there as a backup.”

“Can’t ya just check me like normal?”

“I could, but this way provides more up-to-the-minute information, and since I’ll already be taking data on the treatment progression I might as well monitor HP at the same time. Like I said, I’ve already optimized this procedure, and this is what works best. Now, unless you have any more questions, let’s get started.”

“Fine, great, whatcha want me ta do?”

“Nothing, just lie there, and _stay in bed_ this time, while I inject the medicine. Once it’s in your soul, it’ll run its course on its own, so your soul will be able to stay in your ribcage unless you need a magic infusion or you mess with the monitor wires.”

“Jus’ get on with it, then,” Twist sighs. This is going to suck. Definitely not the worst thing he’s ever been through, there’s a lot of competition for that, but it’s going to suck.

“Fine then. You might want to brace yourself. If you attack me while I’ve got a needle in your soul, you’ll probably end up with a whole syringe in your soul instead.”

“Yeah, yeah, not gonna attack ya. This’s the part I signed up for, ain’t it?” Nevertheless, he tightens his grip on the bars. He turns his head away as she picks up the syringe, but finds once again that he can’t stand not knowing when the needle is coming. He turns back to look just in time to cringe as the needle reaches the surface of his soul. He tenses in dread as the needle breaks the surface, only to feel… almost nothing. Like the wires, the needle feels wrong but is too small to be painful. Twist sighs in relief. Maybe this won’t be so bad. He can take this. This is nothing. He’s had so much worse… And then the world dissolves into agony. 

Heat floods his soul, like someone lit it on fire. Bubbling, boiling fire, like boiling in acid, is it acid? Did she put acid in his soul?! Distantly, he hears himself screaming. He knows it’s him because he feels the screams ripping from his throat, but that’s all he knows as the world condenses around that single point of pain. Vision goes black, hearing goes silent, he no longer feels the bed under his back, just the frantic thrashing of his own limbs and the wrongwrongWRONG feeling of foreign hands around his melting soul. Something brushes his ribs, _Don’t touch me! _and then blessed relief from the wrongness as his soul settles back into place. Relief from the wrongness, but not from the pain. The pain won’t end. The pain will never end, not until he melts away, melts away the broken, corrupted, ugly soul burnitburnitBURNIT it burns please it burns it hurts please stop please someone help make it stop.

This is eternity. It lasts an eternity and it will continue for many more eternities until he melts away, and slowly he’s fading. Fading away and the pain isn’t leaving but he is, drifting away like dust on the wind like drowning in the river, fighting at first but slowly losing strength and giving up the fight. Drown, he could drown, just sink beneath the surface and the burning will stop. No more pain, no more him. No more him, no that’s not… Don’t want that. That’s not… but the thought won’t hold together, too much pain and too little strength to hold anything together. Then suddenly more wrongness. Wrongwrongwrong what’s wrong… why… what’s happening? Hands on his soul, taking it! No, give it back give it back give… it… too hard to fight. Too hard, too tired… need… can’t… His soul fills with crackling energy and suddenly he’s awake, wide awake, no please no more don’t want to be awake but don’t want to… die.

All his shattered thoughts crystalize around that one idea, he almost died, he doesn’t want to die. This could kill him. Is this killing him? Nonono don’t let it kill him he wants to live. Live with the pain and the wrongness and the melting and the dark? It’s so dark and he’s alone and it hurts. No that’s not the world it’s not he’s been here before not quite here but like this before. It’s been like this and he got out! He got out and he won and he got Sans back and… Sans! Where’s Sans? Sans needs him. Sans would want him back even if he’s melting even if he’s already melted, even if he’s melted away to nothing and there’s nothing left. But it hurts and it’s WRONG something wrong on his soul someone’s holding his soul where is his soul? Right there! It’s right there above him, someone’s standing over him holding it. It’s her she wants it she took it she can’t have it she can’t take anything else from him give it back!

“Gif ba’. G’ba’k.” He tries to shout, but his voice is too hoarse for more than a whisper and he can’t form the shape of the words.

She might say something as she approaches but he can’t hear it. All he sees is a hand reaching out to grab him, the same hand that’s hurting him and touching his soul, let go please let go. He grabs the hand that’s reaching for him and digs his claws in with all his strength. She yelps, oh fuck he’s in for it now, and withdraws her hand, but not before giving back his soul. The relief of its return momentarily blocks out the pain, enough that he can realize the pain has receded enough that there are things in the world that aren’t pain. He waits for the melting to return, but no, if anything his soul is cooling, now more like metal in the hot sun than battery acid at the sun’s core. The same can’t be said of the rest of him. His ribs are radiating enough heat that his arm hurts where it’s resting against his lower ribs. He tries to move it away but it won’t obey him. The bed under his back may as well be an oven. He tries to roll to a cooler spot but can’t move any part of his body. His throat is the worst, like someone has scraped it with sandpaper. The more the pain fades, the more he realizes how thirsty he is. Water, he needs water, but he can’t even whisper to ask for it and now he’s alone.

***

Iggy finishes wrapping her arm in her office and then goes back to check on her research subject. He’s stopped twitching, so he might have passed out. He seems harmless, but he’d seemed pretty harmless before he clawed her arm down to the bone, so she stays well out of reach as she checks his stats on the monitor. He’s back up to half his full HP with the compound fully integrated into his soul. The start is bad for every subject, but she hasn’t come so close to losing one since before she perfected the formula. The difference between an LV of 9 and 17 might have more of an effect than she’d thought. Or maybe this is a subject-specific problem. No way to know for sure without more data.

She’s downloading the data from the monitor to a flash drive for transfer and further analysis when she notices Twist staring at her. He’s not doing anything, just staring. His jawbone moves as if to say something, but no sound comes out and he just keeps staring. It’s disturbing.

“Hello, do you need something?” She tentatively asks. His brow bone furrows in… some sort of expression. She can’t really tell what it is.

“Are you ready to answer some questions about your experience?” This gets no response, so she steps closer.

“Some of this data looks a little patchy. I’m going to take a look at the wires to make sure they’re all in there correctly. I’m not sure how well I reconnected them when you pulled them loose earlier. I was more concerned with getting some magic into you when your HP dropped. I had to pull your soul out to inject it directly, and then when I tried to put it back you attacked me,” she babbles as she reaches into his ribcage to pull out his soul again. Twist snarls and tries to grab her. Iggy leaps backwards. Well, she was right about being careful.

“Is that really necessary?” she snaps. “I’m trying to help you! Do you want to dust because no one knows your HP is dropping? I’m not checking you 24 hours a day, so you need that monitor to be working.” Twist cringes at her anger and plasters his arms flat against the bed. “That’s better. Keep them there. Now let’s see what’s going on here.” She reaches for his soul as he watches with widened sockets. When she touches it he gasps and his whole body jerks. 

“Hmmm. Overly sensitive now, it seems. I’ll have to keep that in mind. All of the wires are in place, so what’s causing… oh, there! One of the tips is sticking out the other side. That explains it. I’ll just pull it back in… what’s it stuck on? Oh, that’s fascinating. The outer layers are already re-calcifying around it! I should have expected it, but if it’s this fast then why didn’t it happen sooner? I had no trouble moving the wires a few minutes ago… Something about the treatment must temporarily reduce calcification. I wonder if it’s just the heat? No, it can’t be that hot. I must not have noticed with the other subjects because their natural re-calcification wasn’t this fast. It’s not happening anywhere else, so the wires must provide a surface for the molecules to organize around, like some kind of seed crystal. This could be helpful. If we can keep the wires in place long enough for calcification to form around them, it should keep them from coming out again. Here, I’ll just break up the part that’s holding the wire in the wrong place and pull it back in. It’s thin enough that I should be able to do it manually.” She glances at Twist’s face for confirmation and sees his teeth gritted and head turned away, face half-buried in the pillow. His body is shaking and hands are clenched, but still obediently held at his sides.

“Oh, sorry, does it still hurt for me to touch it? Here, I’ll finish up quickly and put it back.” He moans when she breaks off the calcification near the misplaced wire, but otherwise does not react. He relaxes slightly when she sets his soul back inside his ribcage, but still doesn’t move.

“There, now we can leave it alone for a while. Once the wires are locked in place I shouldn’t have to do anything else with it unless your HP drops to critical levels again. I don’t really expect that to happen; this first part is the most damaging, HP-wise. If it becomes a regular thing I might need to put in some kind of a port for easy access, but we won’t resort to that unless we have to. You seem more responsive now, so do you think you could answer some of my questions? We can just stick to yes or no for now if you don’t feel up to talking.”

Twist’s shoulders twitch, which Iggy decides to interpret as agreement, so she pulls out her list of questions. Twist answers some of them with nods or head shakes, although it isn’t really clear if he understands all of what she’s saying or if he’s actually even intentionally answering. After several questions in a row go unanswered she gives up.

“That’s alright, we’ll try again later. Just get some sleep for now,” she suggests as she gathers her materials. As she stands to leave, she hears a small sound.

***

“Mmmmm. W…” Twist breaks into coughing, but tries again. “Wah…” He winces as the sound strains his throat.

“What is it? Do you need something?” Iggy asks impatiently. Twist flinches at her tone but tries again.

“Wah… da. Wa er. C’n… pls?” It’s too much to say at once, too many sounds, too little breath. But he’s so thirsty.

“Wa da? Oh, water, of course! Sure, you can have some water. I probably have a water bottle around here somewhere. That shouldn’t be too hard to drink from.” Iggy goes off in search of a water bottle while Twist struggles to stay conscious. He’s so, so tired, the room around him fading in and out of focus and spinning. He’s so grateful when Iggy returns and puts the tip of a water bottle in his mouth, even when it comes out too fast and most of it runs down his jawbone. Even that is wonderful as the water cools his overheated bones. He wants to ask for more on his ribs but can’t find the words. After far too short a time Iggy pulls the bottle away and wipes off the water dripping down his chin. He tries to protest but his protest goes unheard.

“There, is that better?” she asks without giving him time to answer. “We should probably try a straw next time. I have a lot of work to do now, so you just get some sleep. The monitor will tell me if anything changes.” Then she picks up her materials and leaves. Twist drifts for a while, trying to remind himself why he’s doing this, and what this even is, and avoid other memories that it’s bringing to mind. Eventually he drifts into a restless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Twist groans as he blinks awake. The brightness in the room is blinding so he quickly slams both sockets shut and brings an arm up to cover them with his sleeve. This is a lot more work than it should be, and does not produce the expected result. Bare bones are terrible at blocking out light.

“How drunk was I that I thought sleepin’ shirtless in a freezin’ room with no blankets was good idea?” he mutters, trying to lever himself up and out of the bed to search for some clothes. Trying, and failing, as a wave of dizziness washes over him at the movement and his arms won’t hold any weight. “We’ll, fuck. Not sure this’s a hangover.”

He groans again as the headache that had been faintly pulsing in the back of his skull suddenly intensifies. "Or if it is, ‘s a hangover from hell.” He tries covering his eyes again, still to no effect. “C’n someone turn off that damn light?” No one answers.

He tries getting up again, this time by swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Pain flares in his ribcage. “Shitshitshit, bad idea, fuck!” He curls into a little ball, arms across his ribcage and legs drawn up as tightly as he can manage. It's quite some time before he manages to move again. He can only guess at what’s wrong.

Not drunk, or not only drunk. Was there some kind of fight? Shit, was there?! What if he killed someone? What if he gained LV? He can’t have gained LV, he’d know if he had, surely he’d know, his stats would be higher and they aren't. They aren't. And anyway, it would have healed him, and he’s definitely not healed, and he’s still sane enough to worry about it, so that can’t be what happened, it can’t, but then what did happen?

“‘m I sick?” The pain in his ribcage has receded enough to let him speak again, but something definitely isn’t right with his voice. It’s raspy and strained, <strike>like he was screaming, why does he remember screaming?</strike> And it’s dry, and oh stars he’s just realized how thirsty he is, and unless there’s some water right next to this bed, there’s no way he's getting any. A quick glance through squinted sockets confirms that water is nowhere within reach. He’ll have to put that aside, then, for the probably more pressing problem of what happened and where he is.

His brief glimpse of the room suggests that it might be some kind of doctor’s office. He hasn’t spent much time in places like that, really doesn’t like them and can usually take care of any injury without needing to go to one, but it would make some sense based on whatever is wrong with his ribcage and skull. Which is probably something he should find out more about. His skull’s a little hard to examine by himself, but he should be able to get some idea of what’s happening with his ribcage if he can just get his eyes open long enough.

Bracing himself for the light, he squints his sockets open again. It’s just as bad as last time, but this time he’s prepared, so he manages to keep them open. His neck is stiff, but it bends enough that he can look at his ribcage. What he sees there is disturbing.

His soul is there, easily seen from the sickly yellow light it’s giving off. It’s missing a lot of the calcification that would normally cover it, which should make it look better but somehow just makes it look damaged. He looks away in disgust. Even without the calcification, it’s still ugly. Which, fine, he should have expected that. If he could fix his soul by peeling it like an orange, he’d have done it a long time ago, but what’s with the color? Last he checked, his magic was gold, not yellow, and definitely not that weird, pale yellow. His head falls back on the pillow before he can take a closer look. Everything aches, but more than that, absolute exhaustion is really getting to him. But he has to figure out what’s going on.

The best lead he has is his soul. Something is wrong with it, and maybe if he can figure out what’s wrong he can figure out what happened, or where he is, or how to get out of here. Sitting up’s not working, bending’s not working, but maybe he can bring his soul to eye level instead. He quickly learns that magic’s not working either, _ow, shit, ow_, so he reaches in to pull it out by hand, only to get his hand tangled in string.

“What the fuck?” he gasps. “Why’s there-” but he’s cut off by a coughing fit, which does nothing good for the string that’s apparently pulling on his soul. Not string, he realizes as he gets the coughing under control, wires. Wires sticking into his soul, and the other end connected to a machine a few feet away. 

“Now this’s gettin’ creepy.” His eyes trail from the machine by his bed to the rest of the room, stopping on various equipment, some of which looks ridiculously modern next to tools that could have come out of some 19th century mad-scientist’s lab, and a few things that look more like some kind medieval torture devices. He shivers at a creepy clamp thing with teeth without really knowing why it’s any worse than the things around it, before freezing in place as he realizes what it all means.

“A lab. ‘m in a lab!” Ice fills his marrow as he looks around with renewed awareness, noting the single exit, impossibly far away, the bars beside his bed, perfect for strapping in some unwilling research subject, though he’s not strapped in because why would they bother? It’s not like he’s going anywhere. He can’t even sit up, can’t even get these damn wires out of his soul, oh fuck get them out get them out get them out! Shit that hurts, but they’re out, they’re gone, nothing holding him in place anymore, this is his chance, he has to leave has to get up has to…

“What is going on in there?” a voice demands from somewhere he can’t see. “You’d better be having a seizure or something because if you took those out on purpose and screwed up my readings I swear I’ll-”

The voice starts far away but ends up right on top of him. Who the fuck thinks she’s got a right to hold him here like this, thinks she can lock him away in a lab somewhere, doesn’t know who’s she’s messing with, a sharp bone right through her chest will take care of her. He starts to manifest one, and the world whites out in agony.

When awareness returns, he’s still gasping, soul on fire, mana lines burning. He blinks up at the… lizard monster? standing over him, thinking he should probably know who she is, but not quite able to put together a coherent thought.

“Tried to use your magic, huh? Didn’t really work out the way you expected? I’d have warned you, but you decided to attack me as soon as I came in the room, so I didn’t really get a chance. You’re really not being a very cooperative research subject. The hard part was supposed to be before the injection. You really should be under better control now, so I expect better behavior.”

Research subject? Oh yeah, the lab, he’s in a lab, so she’s probably a scientist, and she’s calling him her research subject and telling him to behave. Only one response to that. “Fuck. You.” The effect is kind of ruined by the coughing fit that follows, though.

“Really? That’s how you’re going to talk to me? I’m curing your LV and putting up with all of your ridiculous behavior in the meantime, and all you have to say is fuck you? You should be thanking me!” Her rant is hard to follow as he struggles to get the coughing under control, but it seems like there might be something important in there.

“Thank? Why… wait. What?”

“I’m not repeating myself. You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, ya said…” he clenches his teeth, trying to hold off another coughing fit. She said something important, and besides, coughing hurts like a vice squeezing his soul, and he’d really rather not do it again. Water would be great, or maybe he should just stop talking. Nah, never gonna happen. “Said… LV.” A single cough escapes before he gets it back under control. “A cure? Ya said…” Any answer she might have given is lost as he loses control of the coughing fit. It’s… not the worst thing he’s ever experienced, not by far, but pretty high on the scale of things that have happened lately, as his soul screams for air that he’s coughing too hard to take in, and he can’t get enough air to cough, but he has to cough, and his throat is burning and everything is burning and oh thank every fucking star, water, there's water! He gulps greedily, choking as he continues to cough but not caring as the cool peace of it soothes his throat and even his soul. He drinks until it’s gone, and by then the coughing has stopped and he can breathe, but he’s just so tired. He whimpers as the straw, apparently there was a straw, is removed from his mouth, but is too tired for further protest. Sleep, he just wants to sleep, but there’s something important, something he needs to ask about, something…

“LV?” he whispers. “Somethin’, said somethin’ ‘bout LV. What ya said…?” He can’t talk right, can barely form words, let alone put them in order, but he has to know.

“I’ve cured it.” She says it so matter-of-factly, like she’s not talking about changing his whole world.

“Really? An’ I… c’n have it?” It sounds familiar, but he has to know for sure.

“You already have it. This is it. It’s working in your soul right now. Did you forget?” She softens a little at that.

“Forget? Yeah, guess so.” A tiny spark of memory that he shudders away from, but still it grows, memory of his soul melting and parts ripped off and Muffet taking it, probably not Muffet, that was a long time ago, she’s not here, but it all feels like her so he’s not sure, and fading away and coming back, and it’s all rushing back now and he kind of wishes it wouldn’t.

“Do you remember now?” And now she sounds… encouraging? Is she mad at him or not? Can she just make up her mind? He can’t keep track of these shifts.

“‘member,” he agrees, and he does, kind of, but not enough to make sense of anything.

“Hmmm, temporary amnesia and ongoing confusion, pretty typical side effects, especially this early on. Is there anything else you can tell me? You weren’t in any condition to talk after the initial treatment.”

“‘bout what?”

“Your experience of the treatment! That was part of our agreement, remember? I give you the treatment early and you participate in my data collection so I can get this published and accepted for mass production.”

“Sucks.”

“What sucks?”

“Th’ tre’men’. Treat ment.” Too much work to makes the words come out clearly. He just wants to sleep.

“Really? That’s all you have to say about it?”

“‘s true.”

“Obviously, but I really need more detailed information. You wouldn’t believe how picky the review board is about these things. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“Sucks. ‘m tire. Gonna slee’ now.” There. Three, five, six? words. That’s as much as she’s getting.

“Hey, no, you can’t sleep yet! I’ve already let you get away with it once, but I can’t let you do it again. This whole thing is pointless if I can’t get any data out of it. Between not answering questions and not keeping those wires in, you’re being a pretty useless research subject. I need to get those wires back in, anyway, and don’t take them out again!”

“Mhm.” He doesn’t really care what she does. Sleep is calling, and he couldn’t fight it if he tried. He’s vaguely disturbed as he feels her reach into his ribcage, presumably to get his soul, but it’s not enough to keep him from much needed sleep.

***

Iggy is just plugging the last of the data from the monitor into the program that will analyze it and compare it to the data from her other subjects when she hears a crash from the lab. She rushes into the room, only to find Twist collapsed on the floor.

“What happened? Why are you on the floor?” Did he fall out of bed? She’s still not convinced seizures aren’t a possibility in his case, even if they weren't common in the other subjects. The alternative…

“Tryna go home,” he mutters.

The alternative is that he got out of bed on purpose, and, predictably, collapsed.

“Well obviously you can’t do _that_. How would you get there? You can’t even walk, and I’m not done monitoring the rest of the treatment,” she scolds as he blinks up at her in confusion.

“Rest? There’s more?” He sounds like the idea never occurred to him. At least he remembers that there is a treatment, this time.

“Of course there’s more. Has your LV decreased? No, obviously not, so the treatment isn’t done, so you’re not going home.”

“Wanna go home. Sans… Blackberry. Blackberry’s waitin’.”

“No, he’s not. You told him you were going on vacation, remember?”

Twist snorts. “_Not_ a v’cation. ‘s not.”

“Obviously not, but that’s what you told him. I sure hope this memory loss thing ends soon. How about we move on to a different side effect? This one’s getting old pretty fast.”

“I c’n pick my side effect? What kinda medicine does that? An’ where’s Blackberry?”

“Ugh, no, obviously I was just saying that because I was annoyed. Still, there are a lot of side effects to this and they can change frequently, and so far, memory loss is the most annoying. Now let’s get you off the floor. I’m really glad you’re a skeleton. You weigh, like, nothing for being so tall.” She reaches down to lift him up, only to freeze when he gasps. She quickly pulls back, concerned that she might have hurt him, only to realize that she hasn’t actually touched him yet. Even if she did, she certainly isn’t touching him now, and he’s still looking at her like some nightmare come to life.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He’s just staring her, sockets hollow, expression still, and she has no idea what caused it. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” This question gets through, though it does nothing for the look of terror.

“Sorry. Sorry. ‘m sorry. ’ll do better. Sorry. Sorrysorrysorry. Sorry.” He doesn’t look particularly contrite, but he does look desperate. For what, she has no clue.

“Enough apologizing. You’ve been a terrible research subject, but you’re not actually doing anything wrong right now. Just let me put you in bed and everything will be fine.” She leans down again to pick him up, which brings the terror back in full force.

“Sorry! Sorrysorrym’sorry ‘m sorry ‘m sorry so sorry didn’ mean ta sorry!” Now he’s sobbing, without tears of course because his LV won’t allow that, but still clearly sobbing, and she still doesn’t know why. He’s not actually resisting, so she ultimately just picks him up anyway and puts him back on the bed. He’s shaking so hard that his bones rattle, and he won’t stop apologizing, even after she steps away from him.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m not mad at you. Look, you’re back in bed! I fixed it. Everything’s fine.” Her reassurances have no effect.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.” His body is rigid now, except for the shaking. When she gently touches his arm, he flinches away before freezing again, and that’s when she realizes.

“A hallucination! Something I did triggered a hallucination, maybe with some kind of flashback, and now you’re stuck in it. Combine that with increased emotional instability due to alterations in the substructure of your soul, and of course you’ll have some reactions like this. Ok, that’s not so bad. I’ll just leave you alone to let it fade or play out, and then you’ll be fine. I’ll just be in my office. I’ll check on you in a little while.” Hallucinations are a common side effect, but they always go away on their own. She feels some sympathy for this one, it looks bad, but since there’s nothing she can do to help she might as well get some work done. She reattaches the monitor wires again, which he doesn’t seem to notice, then returns to the office, leaving rattling bones and terrified whimpers behind her.

***

Twist doesn’t know where he is. He thought he knew, and is glad to realize he isn’t _there_, but other than _not there_ he has no idea. There’s a door somewhere over there, and he can’t see what’s through it but it seems like the best way out. He pulls himself to the edge of the bed with considerable effort, tries to roll to his feet, and collapses to the floor, agony shooting through every joint. For some indefinable amount of time, that’s all there is, but at some point, he hears a voice and feels someone shaking his arm.

“Hey, hey! Can you hear me? What are you doing out of bed?” The source of the voice is a yellow blur. 

“Stop yellin’ an’ maybe I’ll answer ya,” he mutters at the blur. He knows that blur, and as the blur resolves into a familiar face he remembers where he is. “Damn, that’s annoyin’.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to yell at you if you hadn’t knocked yourself out by falling on the floor. When I say stay in bed, I mean it. You can’t walk. You also have wires in your soul that are attached to a stationary machine. How hard is that to understand?”

“Yer annoyin’ too, sweetheart, but I meant the forgettin’ what’s happenin’ thing.” He’d like to glare at her, but his eyes have gone from unfocused to over-focused somehow, everything distorted and magnified and too bright, and slightly nauseating.

“What, again? You’re having an unusual quantity of temporary amnesia. That will be inconvenient if it continues.”

“So sorry ta inconvenience ya, darlin’. Here I was havin’ a great time forgettin’ where I was an’ fallin’ on the floor every coupla hours, and not even realizin’ I was bein' an inconvenience. I’ll make sure ta be more considerate in the future.”

“The memory loss wouldn’t be such a problem if you would just stay in bed. Why do you want to get up so badly? You have to feel terrible.”

“Ya sayin’ you’d stay put if ya woke up in some lab somewhere with no clue where ya were or why yer there? Sorry fer not assumin’ whoever put me there has good intentions.”

“Strapping you to the bed would solve that problem.”

He glares. “No.”

“Oh, come on. I know you don’t like it, but how else are you going to stay in bed if you can’t even remember that you’re supposed to? It doesn’t even have to be chains; the way you are right now, we could probably get away with just some strips of cloth. It wouldn’t even be uncomfortable.”

“I said no.” What if she decides to do it anyway? He can’t stop her, can’t use magic, can’t even get to the door. She can do anything she wants to him; he’s helpless. Being helpless never goes well, people take advantage of that, make you helpless then they use you, then they-

“Hey, focus. You don’t need to freak out. I’m not strapping you to the bed. If I was going to then I already would have, with how you’ve been acting every time I try to help you.” Yellow again. Yellow Iggy. Not pink and black and lots of arms. This is Iggy. She’s here because she’s helping him. He chose this, and it’s worth it. It’s not even so bad, just a little pain, a little confusion, a little <strike>absolute terror</strike>nervousness, all completely worth it to get rid of all that LV. Just calm down and do what she says. 

“That’s better. Are you back with me now? Let’s just get you back in bed.” 

A good suggestion, and he’s only just decided to do as he’s told, but he really can’t help himself. He grins. “Ya keep sayin’ yer not in’erested, sweetheart, but then ya keep tryna get me in bed. So which is it?” A weak joke, but somehow he feels infinitely better for making it.

“Will you stop with the innuendo?! Just for that, you can get yourself back in bed,” she huffs.

“Fine, fine, I’ll cut it out an’ get in bed.” He’s still grinning as he struggles to roll over, the effort sending small spikes of pain through his joints but not dimming his mood. That’s as far as he gets, though, as his limbs won’t support him and the pressure from trying to lift himself elevates the pain beyond what he can smile through.

“Think I… think ‘m gonna need some help.” He hates to admit it, but he’s not getting up anytime soon. Actually, maintaining this position might be more than he can manage for much longer, so he’s grateful when she sighs but leans down to lift him up. He’s not much help with getting himself in the bed or properly positioned, mostly trying to minimize the impact to joints that seem to have decided they don’t want him to move ever again.

“Wha’s wrong with me? ‘s like there’re spikes in my joints.”

“I don’t know. That’s not a common side effect. Maybe it’s due to the magic disruption and you being a skeleton. No one can use their magic during the treatment, but skeletons use magic to hold their bones together, which mainly occurs at the joints, so the magic in your joints is still present but easily disrupted.”

“Wait, does that mean my joints’ll come apart? If I can’t use magic and magic’s what holds me together, am I just gonna fall apart?”

“No, if that was going to happen, I think it already would have-”

“Ya _think_ it already would’ve? Yer not sure? Don’t ya think that’s a risk I should’ve heard about before starting this?”

“Your magic isn’t gone, just damaged, so it still should be capable of primary survival functions. I didn’t warn you about it because I didn’t know it would happen. You’re the first skeleton subject I’ve had. That’s the risk you take when you participate in clinical trials, you may experience a side effect that hasn’t been discovered yet. This one really isn’t even that bad-”

“Unless my arms ‘n legs fall off.”

“You’ll just have to be careful about moving, and stop interrupting me. Now give me your soul.” While she speaks, she retrieves the wires that came loose when he fell out of bed, then holds them in one hand while holding the other out expectantly for his soul. He gives it to her, knowing better than to resist by now, and looks away as she sticks both wires back in.

“Aren’t you glad I got all the calcification off so it’s mostly still clear? Imagine if I had to chip some more away each time you pulled these out. On the other hand, maybe that would motivate you to keep them in.”

“Not exactly pullin’ ‘em out on purpose, sweetheart.” He scowls as she returns his soul. Obviously this is annoying for her, but he’s not having a great time either, and he’s not sure what she thinks he can do about it. 

“Just stop doing it. I’m going back to the office to try to get some work done. Stay. In. Bed. Do NOT remove those wires. If I have to come in here again because you did something stupid, I might reconsider what I said about strapping you to the bed.” And on that horrible note, she leaves him alone.

***

“Hey, Iggy?” She’s busy doing something with some equipment, but she’s always busy when she comes into the lab, so this is as good a time as any to ask.

“What?” That doesn’t mean she’ll be happy to be interrupted, though.

“Any chance I could get somethin’ ta eat? Think I’ve been here awhile, an’ I’m gettin’ kinda hungry.” He’s a lot more than kind of hungry, but there's no reason to let her know how much. At least not unless he has to.

“You’ve been here a day and a half, so I’m not surprised you’re hungry. I’m actually surprised you haven’t said anything before now.”

“Wasn’t hungry then. I am now. Can I have somethin’, please?” There, a little politeness never hurt.

“Sure, just let me finish with this and I’ll get you some food.” Well, that’s better than if he hadn’t asked at all, but it seems like she’d be a little faster about feeding someone at risk for magic depletion who hasn’t eaten in a day and a half.

After finishing whatever it is she was doing, Iggy goes into her office. There are some sounds; packages tearing open, water running, utensils clinking, and then she returns with a covered cup with a straw sticking out the top.

“A smoothie?” Twist asks hopefully. He loves smoothies.

“Kind of, but not quite. It’s mostly protein and a concentrated high-calorie mixture. You’ll have trouble digesting anything complicated, and you’re probably going to have trouble eating anything that takes a lot of chewing, and if you swallow wrong, you’ll choke on it, so this way you still get all the nutrients you need just from drinking. It’ll help keep your HP up.”

“Protein and calories, huh? Sounds great. Let’s give it a try.” It certainly doesn’t smell great, and it tastes exactly like it smells. He grimaces, but he’s hungry, so he drinks some anyway. “No chance of makin’ this taste any better, is there?”

“I could add some sugar.” He grimaces.

“No thanks. Last thing this needs is ta be sweet on top’a whatever else it is.” There really is no way to describe the taste. It’s just awful.

“Fruit, maybe? You said you liked smoothies.” Well isn’t she just being remarkably helpful today? Looks like cooperating with drinking her nasty smoothie might pay off.

“That’d be great, sweetheart. Dunno if it’d totally fix the taste, but it’d make it a lot easier ta drink.”

“Ok, give it here. I’ve got a blender in the office, and I think I have some bananas I can mix in. But you drink the whole thing, understand? I’m not going to this much trouble just so you can take a few sips and decide you don’t like it.”

“Got it. You add bananas and I drink it all.” Honestly, he’d probably drink it all without the fruit, nasty as it is. He’s hungry, and talking about food is just making it worse.

She doesn’t take long to return with the modified smoothie. It’s better than it was before, even if nothing can quite cover up that taste. At first, he drinks it vigorously, but drinking is more work than it should be as his magic struggles to dissolve the food. It gets harder to coordinate drinking and breathing as he loses energy, so he keeps running out of air and occasionally choking. He believes Iggy now about solid food being a bad idea. He's exhausted by the time he finishes the cup. He holds onto the cup long enough for Iggy to take it from him but passes out as soon as he no longer has a task keeping him awake.

***

They start to develop something like a routine, even though it’s only been a couple of days. Iggy checks his monitor, brings him terrible smoothies, and works in her office. Twist lies in bed, alternately confused, afraid, and bored. He’s very bored, so bored that he briefly considers risking Iggy’s anger by trying to get out of bed again. <strike>Not worth it don’t disobey you know what that gets you </strike>He really doesn’t feel too bad as long as he doesn’t move, <strike>except for all the random flashbacks that get triggered by absolutely everything and the inability to remember where and when he is,</strike> so maybe he’s starting to get better. Maybe it’s almost over and he can go home. It’s a little concerning that he hasn’t seen any change in his LV yet, but maybe it takes a while for the change to show up. Maybe that’s what Iggy meant when she said it could take days or weeks.

Still, Iggy doesn’t act like it’s almost over. In fact, Iggy acts like whatever she’s reading from his monitor is weird. She keeps watching him like she expects something to happen. She seems irritated that whatever it is keeps not happening.

It’s late in the third day of treatment when Twist finally finds out what Iggy has been waiting for. He’s just finished dinner, and is happily using the little energy he has left to make fun of the food. Iggy cooks about as well as he does, if these smoothies are any indication, and he’s happy to tell her so. Iggy is ignoring him, as she tends to do.

When it begins, he thinks he’s just having trouble digesting dinner. It really is getting annoying to have so much trouble with basic things. Then he notices how hot everything feels.

“Why’s it so hot in here?” Iggy ignores this complaint like she has all the others. She’s doing something with the monitor and doesn’t turn away from her work. Twist realizes he’s started sweating. “Seriously, ‘m meltin’, here. Turn the heat down.” This time Iggy turns to look at him.

“It’s not any hotter than it was before. Are you feeling hot?” She sounds kind of excited, which is a weird reaction.

“Really hot. Too hot. Reminds me of when this started, with that first injection.” He doesn’t want to think about that, has been trying hard _not_ to think about it, in fact, but now that he’s thought of it, he can’t stop thinking of it. This really does feel like a lighter version of how that felt. The heat is even centered in his soul like it was then. “‘m hot.” He might have whimpered. He’s not sure. He’s just too hot to care, and something’s happening with his soul. Something that feels a lot like that hellish first treatment, something that’s seeming more and more like it with each passing second, something-

Something in his soul flares white hot, and he screams. It’s like acid, or his soul shattering, and he doesn’t know what’s happening, but then he doesn’t _care_ what’s happening, just wants it to _stop. _He claws at his ribs, desperate to get to the source of the pain, and he knows that doesn’t help, knows it only adds more pain, and what’s he going to do, rip out his own soul? So he pulls his arms in towards his chest, pulls his legs in too, and now he’s curled up in a tight little ball but it’s so hot, joints are hot and soul is _melting_, not supposed to melt she said he wouldn’t melt! He doesn’t want to melt, wants to go home! Go home, fight it, fight what?! There’s nothing to fight, just pain and heat and please make it stop. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease and he can’t breathe, doesn’t want to breathe, breathing hurts, everything hurts, can’t breathe, something's on his face can’t breathe! Touching him someone’s touching him, hands on his skull, moving his skull, air! He gasps in relief as air rushes to his soul, then screams as it reignites the burning. Can’t breathe, it hurts, have to breathe. So hot, breathe through it, just keep breathing but why if he’s melting? He doesn’t want to melt, she said he wouldn’t melt! Cold, needs something cold to stop melting, get up, find cold, can’t! She said he wouldn’t melt! Where is she? Please make it stop!

“Help.” It might be scream or it might be a whisper. Either way, it rips out of his throat, and now that hurts too, but it gets a response. She’s here!

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. You’ll be ok. This is all perfectly normal. It just means the medicine’s hit a fairly large LV concentration, or maybe even a node, which means it’s finally doing its job. I was wondering when it would. It usually doesn’t take this long. I wonder if it’s proportional to the increase in overall treatment time? That would be useful to know.” It’s mostly a blur of sounds to Twist, but somewhere in there seems to be a reassurance, something about this being normal. Maybe he’s not melting? Then what’s happening? The pain spikes again, and he didn’t know it could get higher, but somehow it has, and then he doesn’t have any more thoughts for a while as it crests and crests again.

This time when the world comes back, he knows where he is and why he’s here, and it doesn’t help at all. He’s shaking. He doesn’t know why he’s shaking, can’t really even feel it, but his bones are rattling so he must be shaking. It’s dark, so maybe it’s late, or maybe his eyes are closed, so he tries to open them, and yes, they were closed, and it was better that way because this place is blinding. He closes them again, but not before glimpsing the yellow blur that’s become much too familiar these past few days.

“Hey, are you awake? How are you doing? That looked like a pretty bad one, not as bad as the first one because your HP didn’t drop too much, but still not great. You’ll probably need to eat something soon, but you didn’t even need an infusion, so it wasn’t too bad, although I guess it probably seemed pretty bad to you, so how are you doing now?” She talks a lot. None of it seems helpful. Maybe he should ask.

“Was… at?” That didn’t work, and now his throat hurts again.

“What? You’re not making any sense. Are you thirsty? I’ll get you some water.” She disappears for… a while, he doesn’t really know, and then there’s a straw between his teeth. He drinks it, and apparently he was thirsty because once he starts he can’t stop, and drinks until the cup is dry. He wants more, he thinks he wants more, but he’s tired, so tired. Maybe he’ll sleep, but… Wait, no don’t sleep. What happened? He needs to know what happened. What if it happens again? How can he stop it from happening again? He barely notices his breathing speeding up until he’s hyperventilating, and he didn’t have enough air to begin with so now everything is spinning, and he’s still too hot and fuck is it happening again nonononono.

“Hey, you’re ok, you’re okay, just calm down. It’s over for now, just relax. You need to relax and recover. You’ll be okay.” 

Okay. She said he’ll be okay. She said it’s over, she said it, it’s over. No, she said over for now. For now! That means it’s coming back. It’s not over, not over, never over, it’s coming back, he’ll be here forever, can never go home and he’ll burn until he melts, won’t ever -_OW_.

“Are you listening? Listen, I said you’re okay! Calm down. Just breathe, jeez.” She shook him. Fuck that hurts. But it breaks him out of the panic too, and now he can process what she’s saying. Calm down. He needs to calm down. Breathe. Breathe slowly. That’s not slow! That’s faster, that’s worse, he’s not listening not listening too fast can’t breathe can’t see it’s dark can’t breathe can’t - He passes out.

***

Iggy is still sitting by the bed when Twist wakes up. He’s calmer now, almost lethargic, and slowly blinks up at her until she notices that he’s awake.

“Oh good, you’re back. And calmer now, too. I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to calm down. I was seriously considering tranquilizer options if you were still panicking that much when you woke up, but I really want to avoid that because I don’t know whether it could destabilize what little magic you have left. But it’s not necessary because you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Does that require an answer? It seems obvious. He has a better question. “What happened?”

“You passed out after that attack. I’d say that one was definitely a node. Nodes are the worst, so if that wasn’t a node, I’d hate to see what an actual node would look like for you. I can’t totally rule that out, because I really don’t know enough about high LV in mentally intact monsters, so we’ll have to wait and see, but I’d really be surprised if that wasn’t a node.

“Wha’s a node?”

“Hmm? Oh, you know, an LV node.”

“Wha’s a LV node?” Is she going to start making sense at some point? There’s clearly something he needs to know here, but he has no clue what it is, and he's so tired.

“Don’t you know how LV works?” She seems genuinely baffled.

“I know what it’s from an’,” he pauses to breathe, “an’ what it does, but,” another pause for breath, “nothin’ else.” What else is he supposed to know about it? If he’d realized he’d have to play twenty questions to find out what happened, he might have waited a while.

“I guess most people don’t actually know much about it. When you study something as much as I’ve studied LV in the past few years, you tend to forget what the general public does and doesn’t know.

“Basically, LV exists as a semi-physical part of the soul, with varying concentrations of each level dispersed throughout loosely interconnected networks. When your soul hurts, that’s the medicine dissolving various parts of the physical and magical components of LV. I’ve made it pretty specific to minimize damage to the surrounding areas, but with everything so connected in there, it’s impossible to avoid it completely. That’s where the side effects come from, including the mental and emotional ones since souls don’t really have any separation between the physical, mental, emotional, and magical. When the pain spikes, that means the medicine has hit a particularly high concentration of LV. When it gets to a node in the network, it actually connects to all the LV of that level in your soul at once, which affects the whole network, causing ‘attacks’ like the one you just experienced. Sorry, I don’t think that’s a great name for them, but it’s the best I’ve come up with so far. I’m open to suggestions. Anyway, what that means is that, as horrible as I’m sure that was, it was actually a really good thing because it means the medicine dissolved a node, which is great progress!”

“How many nodes?”

“Just one, I’m sure. They’re not right next to each other, which is good because can you imagine dissolving several at once? I bet that could break someone’s mind!”

“No, how many nodes are there?” And if she could sound a little less enthusiastic about the idea of his mind breaking, that would be great.

“I don’t actually know, sorry. There are no definite patterns, and I think they can even shift a little. There are definitely a lot, especially with high LV like yours. We’ve still got a long way to go. But progress is progress, right?” 

“Yeah.” Progress is progress. They’re making progress, small as it is relative to the whole awful thing. He’s not going to think about more of those attack things. He’s not going to think about being here for some indefinite amount of time, pretty much alone, living in dread of when the next one will come. He’s not. Instead, focus on progress.

He’s getting closer to life without LV. His whole life, spent as close as he wants to be to everyone he loves, with time to do everything he ever wished he could do and no reason to be afraid of himself ever again. He can barely imagine it. It’s too much.

It doesn’t seem real, here in a lab with his soul burning, barely able to remember where he is and with old memories always threatening to overtake his mind, but if this works, it will be real. Everything he never let himself wish for will be real. That’s why it’s worth it. Whatever happens, he has to remember it’s worth it. He just wants to go home, but going home without LV is worth waiting for. It is. It doesn’t seem like it now, miserable and terrified of the next attack, but it’ll be worth it. It will be.

***

Twist drifts off into some kind of daydream after Iggy’s more thorough explanation of the LV treatment, so Iggy returns to her office for more data analysis. The monitor wires actually stayed in during the attack, which is a minor miracle given the way he was scratching up his ribs. She really needs to find a way to stop him from messing with them, and to stop him from injuring himself now that the medicine has started reaching nodes. She’s tried to respect his wishes to not be restrained, but it’s getting impractical and he’s not being reasonable about it. No one likes having their movement restricted, but all he’s doing is messing up the data and hurting himself. He really does seem upset whenever she mentions it, though, so she’ll wait a little longer to see how he does. At least he doesn’t seem to be attacking her anymore.

The results so far are actually pretty promising, despite the gaps in the data and the complete lack of any meaningful subjective report. She certainly has enough to start her report to the major donor who is making all of this work possible. She doesn’t know who they are, but she’s sure they’ll be pleased with her progress.

> A subject who meets the criteria set by the review board has been found. Subject is a male skeleton with LV of 17. Subject consented to all treatment and was given the initial injection with minimal complications (i.e. HP loss requiring correction with direct magic infusion, distress). Subject is currently under observation in the lab. Side effects are managed effectively and HP is being monitored. The initial node was reached 56 hours after the initial injection, suggesting an extended treatment time relative to other subjects. Progress will continue to be monitored.

She considers sending the report early, but that seems a little excessive. As exciting as this is, she’ll have better data by the end of the week, so there’s really no reason to jump ahead of herself. It’s so exciting, though. Twist really could be the key to getting the treatment approved for mass distribution. The donor is sure to be thrilled.


	5. Chapter 5

These results are fantastic! Everything is going so smoothly, Iggy can’t believe it. Four days into the treatment, one day after the first node, and her subject’s HP is holding steady with somewhere between four and nine nodes already gone. It’s hard to know exactly how many. There’s too much noise in the data to distinguish individual nodes and the attacks late last night and this afternoon were severe enough and long enough that either might have contained several nodes. It’s like the medicine has been building up across multiple nodes and the dissolution of one triggered the others. She’ll actually have to keep an eye on that. The concentration in the injection wasn’t high enough to trigger the cascading effect that was responsible for some of the earlier cases of melting, but so many sequential attacks have to be hard on a monster. They’re certainly affecting her current subject.

A crash comes from the lab. Iggy sighs. She really can’t leave Twist alone for a minute. What’ll it be this time? Falling out of bed during another attack, or because he’s forgotten why he’s here again and decided to leave? Both have been exasperatingly frequent today. He really hasn’t been doing well since the one this morning, psychologically. Coming so soon after the one that kept him up half the night, this morning’s attack was a bit more than he could handle and he hasn’t been acting the same. Startling easily, even in the absence of other signs of a flashback, staring into space, not reacting to things that would normally bother him, they all point towards some kind of overload. She’s not a psychologist, but even she knows he needs a break. Unfortunately, there’s nothing she can do to give him one. Hopefully the medicine will slow down soon, for his sake. Sighing again, she gets up to put him back in bed.

He’s whimpering, which is good. He went silent towards the end of the last attack, when it definitely wasn’t over yet and he definitely should have still been reacting, and he’s been silent ever since. As annoying as he can be, she’s glad to hear him making noise again. She’s less glad to find him curled up on the floor, clawing at his ribs, but that’s barely remarkable at this point. She’s become fairly adept at getting him back in bed without getting clawed, so she lays him back in the center and settles in to babysit. There are really so many better things she could be doing with her time than sitting here and keeping him from hurting himself. She absently grabs a hand that’s trying to chip off a piece of a rib. There has to be a better way to do this. He gets ahold of a monitor wire, so she pulls out his soul and sticks the wire back in. She’s really trying to respect his wishes about being restrained, but every problem he’s causing would be prevented if she could just tie his arms down. That’s all it would take. Nothing else, just his arms.

He swipes at the hand she’s left resting on the bed, managing a slice from her knuckles to her wrist. "That’s _it_!" she snarls. This is ridiculous. She’ll let him free when he’s aware enough to know what he’s doing, but until then, she’s tying down those arms. She pulls some good leather straps out of a drawer, testing them to make sure they’re strong enough to hold him and soft enough not to hurt him. They’d be easy for him to get out of at full strength, but he’ll never manage it like this.

He whines and struggles as she straps down each arm, but the frantic movements aren’t directed and he’s easily overpowered. The look of fear in his eyes when he realizes he can’t get free is pitiful. What does he think he’s seeing? The poor guy just can’t get away from those flashbacks.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok. These are just so you don’t hurt yourself. I’ll let you out as soon as you’re better. Don’t pull on them, you’ll just hurt your wrists.” He ignores her, as usual. “I said don’t pull! Ugh, never mind, you probably can’t hear me anyway. I need to get back to work now. I’ll check on you in a while.” She’s done the best she can for him, and it’s really kind of uncomfortable to watch him struggle like this, so she heads back to the office and gets back to work. There’s no good reason for him to be this upset. She can’t concentrate once he starts sobbing, so she closes the door. At least he can’t hurt himself now.

***

The pain fades but the nightmare doesn’t. He’s back here and he doesn’t know why. He thought he’d left but he clearly never did, clearly imagined it all, because it couldn’t have been real. If it was real, how did he end up back here? But he wants it to be real.

It’s not, though. What’s real is this, tied to a bed, body broken somehow in ways he can’t figure out, but he knows it’s bad. Nothing is obviously injured, but nothing works and everything hurts, and his arms are locked in place so he can’t escape, can’t fight, can’t do anything but wait for her return. He doesn’t know when she left or where she went, but he knows she’ll be back. She wouldn’t leave him like this if she didn’t still want to punish him. He doesn’t know what he did, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll be sorry, and she’ll forgive him or she won’t, and he’ll take it either way because he never got out so he never was free, and he never found Sans and they never found all those friends, and they never reached the surface, and this is where he’ll be for the rest of his life. He wishes… but no, it’s not real. If it was, he wouldn’t be here.

The door opening startles him, but he forces himself not to react. He can still hold on to that small act of defiance, not showing he’s afraid. She comes through the door, but it’s not _her_. Who is that? Yellow lizard. Almost familiar, but not quite.

“What’d’ya want?” Never mind who she is. Probably works for Muffet. How else would she be here?

“Oh, good, you’re talking! I was getting worried. I’m just checking on you. You weren’t doing very well the last time I was in here.” Well _she’s_ cheery. Better be on his guard. The ones who like it here are the worst. <strike>And what exactly does he think he can do about it?</strike>

She approaches the bed. “Would you like some water? You’ve been out of it for a while so you’re probably thirsty.” There’s a cup in her hand. 

Does she expect him to beg? Should he beg? He really doesn’t want to, but it’s hard to decide when he doesn’t know who she is. He gets a flash of memory of her holding him down, strapping his arms down. He cringes away from it but makes himself focus. That would suggest that she's involved in whatever this punishment is. That and her confidence suggest that she might be someone important, someone he’s supposed to listen to. But is she even looking for begging? Muffet would, unless she decided he was faking and she wanted it to be real, but this isn’t Muffet so he doesn’t know. He really doesn’t want to. Maybe some basic politeness will cover it.

“Yes, please.” That should be fine; simple, clear, and polite. Unless she thinks he’s trying to sound better than he is, sophisticated or something, better than gutter trash, which would mean- No. Stop. He doesn’t know this one. Just wait to see what she does.

“Wow, a please. That’s a first. Today must have really taken it out of you.” She holds the cup so he can drink. He can’t hold it because his hands are tied down, and she’s not untying them. Is she ever going to untie them? Is she even allowed to untie them? How long has he been like this? Will they ever let him go? Please let him go, he needs out, what can he do, doesn’t even know what he did to get punished so how can he fix it, doesn’t- No. Stop. Freaking out won’t help. He has to figure out what’s going on. He needs to pay attention and to think. Focus. Because he’s just great at calm, rational thinking. Doesn’t matter, just focus.

What does he know? This yellow monster is familiar. He feels like he knows her and she seems to know him. She was involved in strapping down his arms and she seems to know what happened to him. She probably works for Muffet. Weird, though, that Muffet would let someone else punish him without being involved herself. He doesn’t think she was here. He doesn’t know why he thinks that. She’s here in his memories, but at the same time those memories don’t line up with whatever else happened. What did happen? <strike>Screaming trapped melting broken</strike> never mind. Maybe she’s just waiting until this monster breaks him down first. S<strike>he's done it before.</strike>

Unless Muffet isn’t even the one who has him. He really has no idea where he is or how he got here. It doesn’t even look like somewhere that belongs to Muffet. Too… scientific. Well that fits with the yellow monster’s lab coat. There aren’t a lot of labs in the underground. Mainly just the one that belongs to the royal scientist. Did he piss off the king, somehow? And instead of killing him, the king gave him to the royal scientist? What would a scientist want with him? Is the yellow monster the royal scientist? That seems… right, maybe? But why is he here?

He flinches when she pulls the cup back too quickly. He’s sure _acting_ like he’s just been punished. It’s been a long time since he’s been this jumpy. Was it a punishment? How would he know? How long has it even been since the last thing he remembers? What even is the last thing he remembers? None of that daydream shit, <strike>he wants it to be real so badly but it’s not, it can’t be</strike>, what’s the last _real_ thing he remembers? <strike>Melting screaming burning tying his arms down and</strike> Oh. That would do it, then. Moving on.

So, he’s probably been captured by someone who doesn’t work for Muffet. That’s not good for his chances of them letting him go with all parts intact, but it is good for his chances of staying gone if he gets away. He just has to look for a chance. He shifts, feels the straps holding his arms in place, shudders, <strike>don’t freak out don’t freak out just breathe,</strike> and starts the only escape plan that comes to mind.

“Hey, uh, do ya really need ta keep me tied up like this? Not like I’m goin’ anywhere. ‘m kinda a mess.” He just needs to get his arms free <strike>got to get out of this, can’t stand it, please let me go</strike> Stop. He’ll figure the rest out later. Improvising plays to his skills much better than planning.

“Hmm? Oh, that was because you kept thrashing around and falling out of bed earlier. I put those on to help you stay in bed until you could hold still.” 

“Well look at me holdin’ still. Looks like I don’ need em now.”

“Probably not, but I think I’ll keep them on for a little while, just to be safe. We seem to be in a decent gap between attacks, but I’m not sure if it will last long.” No clue what that’s about, but she doesn’t seem completely against the idea.

“I c’n make it worth yer while. Pretty good with my hands, if ya know what I mean.”

“I’m sure you are, but I doubt you’re up to working on anything right now, and you’re not leaving that bed.”

“Plenty we could do in this bed. Jus’ need a little better range’a movement.” It works with Muffet, at least half the time, even if he usually pays a price for it, so it’s worth a try here.

“What do you… Oh, ew! No. We’re not going back to this again. I. Am. Not. Interested. In. You. Not as anything but a research subject. The flirting is just obnoxious. It’s not going to get you anywhere. Stop it, or I’m leaving.”

Ok, so that plan didn’t work at all. He shifts again, fights down the rising panic again when he can’t move his arms, and forces himself to stay still. What else can he do? He doesn’t do the big, complicated plans. That’s more… well, people who don’t exist, so there’s no point in thinking about them.

Or, wait. He’s not with Muffet. He’s pretty sure about that now. He is in a lab, but that could be anywhere, anytime, even… even on the surface. What if this is really the surface? What if they’re real? What if he didn’t imagine them all? It would be a strange thing to imagine, a bunch of alternate selves of himself and his brother, from the weirdest alternate worlds, but he knows his mind is a little off, so maybe it could come up with all that. But what if they’re real? Does he dare try to find out?

“Hey, uh, weird question, but why’m I here? ‘m sure I did somethin’ ta piss ya off, an’ I’m sure ya’ve got perfectly good reasons fer lockin’ me up an’ torturin’ me, but could ya maybe jus’ remind me what those reasons are? I think whatever ya did last kinda scrambled the inside of my skull a little.” 

“I’m not torturing you!” He blinks. That’s not what he expected her to object to. “I’m helping you.”

“Coulda fooled me.” He didn’t mean to say that quite as loudly as he said it. Great going, pissing off the scientist that has him locked up in a lab, who’s also the only one who knows what’s going on.

“You want to see ‘torturing you,’ I’ll show you-” She pauses, takes a breath, and continues in a calmer voice. “I realize that you’re confused. I can see how the current situation could seem pretty bad, especially if you’re having memory problems again. But I promise, I’m helping you.” It doesn’t seem likely, but if she wants to pretend to help him, he’ll run with it until it blows up in his face.

“What’re ya helpin’ me with, then?” It’ll be funny to see what she comes up with, if nothing else.

“Your LV.” Like he needs help with that.

“Think it’s doin’ just fine on its own, sweetheart. It gets much higher an’ I’m not gonna be much use ta anyone.” He also doesn’t seem to be in any kind of shape to gain LV, but that never stopped Muffet.

“I’m not trying to raise it! I’m trying to get rid of it.” Well that’s a new one.

“‘Fraid that’s not possible, darlin’. Don’ know why ya’d want to, either. Seems like that kinda thing’d get ya in trouble.”

“If it was ten years ago, sure, but not since Asriel became king, and certainly not on the surface.”

“Asriel’s king now? Since when? An’ wait, ya said we’re on the surface? Are we really?” Could it really all be true? It’s too good to be true. But how could she make up the same thing that’s in his head? Stay calm. Don’t show how much it matters.

“Of course. You’ve really forgotten a lot, haven’t you?” Is that sympathy in her voice? She’s not a bad actor. But could they really be real? That sounds like they’re real.

“Nah, I remember. I jus’ wasn’t sure… ‘Cause I woke up like this, ya know?” He opens his hands and spreads them as far as the straps will let him. “Don’t really fit with what I remember from the surface, so I thought…”

“You thought it wasn’t real? Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize. Those memory problems just aren’t going away, are they? That must have been very confusing. Do you remember the LV treatment?” He remembers <strike>melting screaming burning can’t move can’t breathe</strike> a little. Ignore it. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s not lying, because how would she know that he imagined being on the surface, and why would she make it up if she was trying to convince him of something? Why convince him of anything at all? She can do whatever she wants to him, whether he goes along with it or not. Which means it’s real! Oh fucking stars, they’re real! They’re on the surface, and they’re free! Well, he’s not free right now. He needs to get his arms loose. He’s not sure how long he can keep ignoring them before he loses it.

“If yer really helpin’ me, why’d’ya got me strapped ta the bed?”

“For your own protection. You’re not really rational when the treatment is working, and you keep hurting yourself and falling out of bed, so I had to use them to keep you safe.” The words spark more memories, clawing at his ribs to get to the source of the pain, crashing to the floor with joints pulling out of their sockets at the impact, magic too weak to hold them in place, burning that goes on and on and on and comes back as soon as he thinks it’s gone, and then she traps him she’s tied down his hands he’s back with her she has him back and she’ll never let him go and-

“Hey, breathe, come on, just breathe. Slowly, that’s better, just like that. You’re okay. You’ll be okay. Here, I’ll unstrap your arms.” She does. “Maybe you’ll feel better with them free. Just don’t scratch me again. There you go. Isn’t that better? Just relax.” His arms are free! He holds them tight to his ribs, wraps them around his ribcage and curls inwards. It’s so much better now. He remembers everything, why he’s here and what’s been happening and how he forgot in the first place.

“I told ya not ta do that, darlin’.” But people like her never listen.

“Not to do what?” Like she doesn’t know.

“Tie me ta the bed. Ya said ya wouldn’t.” But why would she keep any promises to him? She’s the one with the power here, and he’s just the impulsive idiot who let her take it.

“Yeah, but look, you’ve got to see that that’s not practical. You’re just going to hurt yourself. I can’t be with you all the time. I just can’t. I have too much work to do, important work, and it’s really not my job to be with you every second. Would you rather I just let you get hurt?”

“Yes.” Being hurt’s not that bad. It’s being trapped in memories that he can’t keep separate from the present that’s hard to take.

“That’s crazy. I picked straps that don’t even hurt, and you still have blood on your ribs from where you were scratching them earlier. It’s just stupid to keep hurting yourself when it’s such an easy problem to solve.”

“Never said I was smart or sane. Still don’ want em.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous. Actually, it makes me wonder if you’re really in any state of mind to make your own decisions.” Will that be her excuse, then? She knows what’s best for him, and what he says doesn’t mean shit? Anger won’t do a thing to make her listen, but he has to say something. But keep calm.

“I know what I want, an’ I don’ want those. Told ya that at the beginnin’ an’ never changed my mind.”

“Ok, if you insist, I’ll leave them off for now.”

“But no promises ‘bout the future, huh?”

“No. I’m not letting you dictate treatment decisions to me. I know what I’m doing. You barely know what’s happening from minute to minute. You’re not in a position to decide what’s best for yourself. I’ll take what you want into consideration, but ultimately, I’m the one who knows the best way to apply this treatment. You’re just going to have to live with it.”

“So much fer helpin’ me.”

“I am helping you. You just don’t always like the way I do it. The fact is, strapping down your arms made the treatment go much more smoothly, and the negative consequences were temporary. I’m not here to baby you. I’m here to cure your LV. You agreed to this treatment protocol. When you choose not to cooperate with it, it’s my prerogative as the royal scientist to make sure you do so. It’s for your own good, I promise. Now, any questions before I get back to work?”

“No.” Plenty. Why did he think she was going to help him? Why is she acting like this now? How can he make her stop? What does she consider a good reason to ignore what he says? Why does she think he’s being uncooperative on purpose? Well ok, sometimes he is, but mostly he just can’t keep track of what the fuck is going on.

“Good.” Her expression softens. “Don’t worry, I’m not just going to start ignoring all of your opinions for fun. We’ll keep going just the way we have been. These are just for emergencies. For now, why don’t you get some sleep? It looks like that first bunch of nodes is done dissolving, so you should be able to rest for a while before it starts up again.” She walks towards her office. “Don’t worry, the monitor will tell me if anything changes. Stay in bed, keep the wires in, and go to sleep. Good night.”

Twist has been keeping himself tightly controlled while she speaks to him. Now that she’s gone, his bones rattle enough that they seem like they might come apart. The complete helplessness of his situation is really sinking in. He’s been pretty helpless since the injection, but they’ve been pretending that he still has some say in what happens to him. She’s apparently decided to stop pretending. She’s helping him. Whatever she does, she’s helping him. She’s getting rid of his LV. That’s worth anything she could do to him. Anything. But he really wishes he didn’t have to let anything mean _anything_. He’s afraid of what else it might mean. He wants to go home.

***

The kitchen smells heavenly, tantalizing scents wafting up from every surface, all of which are filled with rows and rows of baked goods of every kind. Blackberry supposes he’ll have to find something to do with them all at some point, but for now he can’t bring himself to bother. Twist would normally be quick to find plenty of people who would welcome so many delicious treats into their homes, but Twist isn’t here. Twist hasn’t been here for days, and Blackberry doesn’t know where he is. He texted from work four days ago with something vague about a vacation. By the time Blackberry saw the text, he had apparently already left, because he never replied to clarify where he was going or how long he would be gone. He hasn’t been heard from since.

It’s not that Blackberry is surprised about his brother impulsively running off on some vacation to a mysterious location. Twist would normally have stopped by to say goodbye and let Blackberry know where he was going, but they’ve become more relaxed about always knowing where the other is since coming to the surface, and Twist does like to run headlong into whatever exciting new idea pops into his skull. It really didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. But then there was the unanswered text. They’re more relaxed about texting now too, but that just means someone might take a little longer to reply, not that they wouldn’t reply at all. No one from a Fellverse would let their brother go this long without hearing from them. Not unless something was wrong.

But maybe Twist went somewhere with bad phone reception and just forgot to let him know? There’s no reason to assume the worst. The surface isn’t as safe as they’d once hoped, but it isn’t nearly as dangerous as the Fellverses. Besides, Twist can take care of himself. Except that sometimes he makes pretty bad decisions, and he’s really much better at taking care of other people than he is at taking care of himself. And if he wanted to go to some exciting new place, wouldn’t he have tried to get one of the other skeletons to go with him? He might have gone by himself if no one was interested, but no one else Blackberry has asked has heard from him either. However much he reassures himself, worry keeps creeping in.

Well, it’s silly to worry. Twist can take care of himself. Surely, he won’t stay gone much longer. It would be silly to get the embassy involved, or even to tell someone that he’s worried. What would he say, ‘my brother went on vacation a few days ago and now he isn’t answering his phone’? Not exactly a compelling case for a missing persons report. If Twist doesn’t show up in a few days, then he can start to worry, but not until then.

It’s getting really late. The whole point of baking was to distract himself from worrying, which obviously isn’t working. He should probably give up and go to bed. He checks his phone again, just in case he missed a text in the few minutes since he checked it last. Of course there’s nothing. He really should just go to bed. He glances back at his phone. Still nothing. Maybe he’ll just make one more batch. He wouldn’t want to miss anything.


	6. Chapter 6

A blaring alarm wakes Iggy shortly after three in the morning. She leaps out of bed and looks around frantically for the source of the noise, before realizing that it’s just Twist’s HP monitor. It’s set to go off for anything beyond a minor HP drop, because a minor drop can quickly become a major drop while a node is dissolving. This is the first time it’s woken her up. Twist screaming or crashing to the floor usually gets her attention before the monitor can.

If Twist’s HP is dropping, she needs to go fix it. She sighs. So much for a decent night’s sleep. Entering the lab, she sees that the reason she hasn’t heard from him is that he’s mostly managed to stay in bed this time. Mostly. He’s flipped himself over and is clinging to the mattress, claws digging in and tearing the fabric as he holds himself in place. It’s pretty impressive, given that half of his body is dangling over the side and she knows he’s not strong enough to support his own body weight. At the same time, he’s struggling to breathe, neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle to keep his face out of the pillow and ribs barely rising where they’re pressed down into the mattress. No wonder he’s not screaming. He doesn’t have any air. Her quick attempt to help him just startles him, breaking his hold on the mattress. He makes some kind of gasping, breathless shriek when she stops him from falling, but doesn’t claw her as she gets him safely settled back into the middle of the bed.

He clearly can’t keep still. He’s shaking, grabbing his head, clawing at his chest, curling into a ball then twisting out of it, but there isn’t room on the bed for that much movement and she has to catch him again as he tips over the side. He’s trying so hard to hold still, she can see that, but it’s not working. Meanwhile, his HP is dropping, and he doesn’t have energy to spare. How’s she supposed to give him an infusion like this? Let him fall out of bed while she holds his soul? And oh shit, the wires. If he gets a wire out while his HP is in flux, she won’t even know if he’s about to dust. This can’t be allowed to continue.

Twist screams when she grabs his closest arm and pulls it towards the bar by the bed. It’s shockingly loud after watching him struggle in near silence. He doesn’t stop screaming as she straps the arm in place, or gets the other one, or as he _knees her in the side_. Was that on purpose?! It must have been; it knocked off a few HP. She didn’t even know he knew she was there. 

Her decision obviously freaks him out. “Nonononono did what ya said, stayed in bed, lemme go, I’ll be good, I c’n do it I can I can I can please…” That actually makes her feel kind of bad, especially with him struggling so hard. It’s for his own good, though. It is. 

“Please lemme out ‘m sorry ‘m… sorry ‘m sor…ry sorry…” He’s slowing down now. Maybe he’s wearing himself out. Maybe he’ll pass out and sleep through the rest of it. He hasn’t done it yet, but other subjects have occasionally done it, so maybe he can too. Maybe he just needs help staying in bed so he can calm down -

She nearly jumps out of her skin as the monitor blares. Shit, shit, shit, how could she forget that his HP was dropping?!

She grabs a dose of concentrated magic from its storage case, then pulls out his soul. No reaction, not good, he should be oversensitive right now, but there’s no time to think about it and the soul is too hot to hold for long. She injects the magic, waits out the convulsions as it assimilates into his natural mana flow, and sticks the soul back in his ribcage.

Sighing in relief, she takes the chance to relax. He can’t; his good socket is blown wide open and the broken one is leaking magic as his back arches and his hands clench. He’s surprisingly strong this time. She’s glad she tied his arms down. He could probably do some damage if he was free to move. Wincing, she rubs the bruise forming on her side. Make that ‘definitely do some damage’.

There’s no chance of going back to sleep after all that, so she should probably leave him and get started on the day’s work. The whole point of the straps was to avoid needing to keep an eye on him all the time. But it doesn’t seem right. He really doesn’t like being restrained. It’s necessary, but she should at least stick around long enough to take the straps off as soon as he doesn’t need them anymore. Maybe this attack will pass quickly. There’s plenty to do around the lab while she waits.

For the most part he’s quiet, other than the occasional moan and a lot of shifting around. He never does hold still. At one point she finds him with his legs pulled to his chest, body curled up against one arm, like he’s trying return to the curled-up position that he seems to prefer. But the other arm is bent behind him at a terrible angle and it looks very uncomfortable, so she helps him straighten out. He resists, but his best efforts don’t amount to much. He doesn’t like the new position, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing. A few minutes later he’s managed to fling his legs off the bed again. This gets another scream from him, probably because of the way his spine is twisted. Repositioning him on the bed yet again, Iggy gives some serious consideration to strapping his legs down, too. It wouldn’t usually be necessary, but he’s really strong today. He could get himself into trouble this way. He’d be upset when he noticed, but it would be a lot easier. Fortunately for him, he calms down before she decides.

The first sign he gives of being aware of his surroundings is the look of betrayal on his face. He looks at her, then down at his arms, then back at her. “Why?” The whisper starts him coughing, those gasping coughs without enough air, and the whole thing seems tailor made to make her feel as guilty as possible. She’s not feeling guilty though. She’s not. Why would she feel guilty for keeping him safe during the treatment that will save his mind and his life? She’s done a lot worse than this in her work to save the underground, and now to save all of the Fellverses. She hasn’t even done anything wrong! Still, she quickly releases his arms and brings him water.

“Why?” he asks again when he can breathe well enough to speak. “Did what ya said. Stayed in bed. Cooperated.”

“I know you did. The problem is, your HP dropped, and you wouldn’t hold still long enough for me to fix it. I don’t think it’s safe to leave you unrestrained if you’re moving around that much while a node dissolves. You’ll probably need those straps any time you can’t hold still.”

“Don’ know how ta… Tried. ‘s just…” His eyes close and his face turns away. He’s not putting up much of an argument. Maybe he sees her point and just doesn’t want to give in.

“It’s too hard, I know. I don’t expect you to be able to hold still. This isn’t a punishment. See, I took them off as soon as you could control yourself. I told you I’d only use them when you needed them-”

“Emergency. Ya said in an emergency.”

“Right, in an emergency. Same thing.” He snorts. “What was that for? Are you implying that I’m restraining you for no reason?”

“Nah. Jus’ think yer idea of an emergency might slip a little.” Does he have to argue about every little thing?

“So what if it does? You really need to get over this. It’s not like I’ve kidnapped you. You chose to come here and now I’m helping you. I’m not going to do everything in the most difficult way possible just because you have a little hang-up about being tied up.”

“Guess ya’ve got a point.” He doesn’t look like he thinks she has a point, but he’s not arguing anymore.

“Now that that’s done, I really need to get back to work. I’ll bring lunch soon. Why don’t you try to sleep until then?” He doesn’t respond, so she goes back to her office. He’s not going to make her feel bad about taking perfectly reasonable actions to help him and make her work easier. For someone who needs her help so badly, he sure has a lot of problems with her methods. Here she is working her ass off for him and all he does is complain about it. Maybe she should stop being so accommodating.

***

To add to Iggy’s fantastic day, the blender breaks as she tries to make Twist’s lunch. It’s nothing dramatic, probably just a fuse shorting out. She’ll replace it later. Money for supplies is no problem these days, but it does create a problem for Twist’s lunch. With the way he’s been acting lately, she’ll never hear the end of it if he has to drink the high-calorie protein sludge by itself. Not that she can really blame him for that, but he refuses to just let her block out the taste with sugar like she’s done with all of the other subjects who were coherent enough to care.

Maybe there’s something that won’t be too hard to mash up by hand. The old bananas on the counter might be soft enough, but it would be hard not to leave chunks that he might have trouble digesting. He seemed to be in relatively good shape this morning, but the HP drop suggests that his magic isn’t actually very stable and might not do well with anything difficult. Oh, maybe some applesauce! There’s some in the fridge. She can’t remember why she bought it, but it’s never been opened and hasn’t expired. She dumps a cup of it into the mixture, stirs it together, and closes the lid. Finally, something is going right today. Applesauce is a lot easier than fresh fruit. Maybe a new blender can wait a while.

Contrary to her admittedly irritable thoughts of a few minutes ago, Twist is usually pretty good natured about the terrible smoothies. He might make a face at them, but he drinks them without much fuss. This time he gags as soon as he smells it. 

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“No more ‘n normal, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ can’t eat apples.”

“You can’t eat apples?” _That’s_ what he picks to complain about? “Who can’t eat apples? They’re one of the most common fruits. Everyone eats apples. Are you allergic or something?”

“Jus’ can’t eat em.” He really does look sick, but nothing is showing up on the monitor and he claims that he isn’t. 

“You’re going to have to give me a better reason than that. These ingredients are expensive and I’m not wasting them just because you don’t like the taste. It can’t be any worse than what the smoothies normally taste like.”

“‘s not the taste. I jus’ can’t eat em.”

“You probably won’t even be able to taste the apple flavor over the taste of the rest of the smoothie. Just eat it and get it over with.”

“Can sure smell 'em over the rest of the smell. Don’ know why taste’d be any different.”

“Look, I’m not your personal chef. The applesauce is already in there. It’s this or nothing.”

“Ok. Nothin’, then. I can’t eat apples.”

“Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. If you don’t eat, you won’t have enough magic to keep your HP up when the medicine hits the next node, and I’ll have to give you another magic infusion. I’m not wasting one of those just because you don’t like apples. You’re eating it.”

“‘m not.”

“Oh yes you are. I’m sick of this. Every time I do something to help you, you throw it back in my face. You pick the most ridiculous things to get mad about. This is your lunch and you’re going to eat it.” When he opens his mouth to protest, she sticks the straw in it. He gags again at having that smell right under his nose and pushes the cup away, almost spilling it.

“Cut the drama. How old are you, two? Are you really going to throw a fit about eating something you don’t like?”

“Not eatin’ apples. Gimme more’a that nasty shit without the fruit.”

“So you can complain about that too? No, you’re eating this, one way or another.” She storms over to a cabinet, and pulls out a syringe. There’s more than one way to get someone to eat. As she walks back towards him, he glares.

“What’re ya gonna do? Inject food into my soul? Seems about right fer how things’re done around here.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Do you see a needle? This is just to feed research subjects who won’t eat.”

“Think ’m lettin’ ya put that in my mouth?”

“I don’t think there’s much you can do about it. Fight me and I’ll tie your arms to the bed.”

“Fuckin’ do it then, ‘cause ain’t eatin’ that.”

“Fine, I will.” Of course he doesn’t cooperate, because he doesn’t cooperate with anything. He struggles when she ties his arms down, and gives her a pretty nasty scratch with the second one. Fortunately, he’s weak, and what little resistance he puts up is easily overcome. Even better, it uses all his energy, and it’s easy to hold his head in place while she sticks the filled syringe into the gap behind his gritted teeth. He gags, of course, and chokes, but it’s not hard to hold his jaw closed until reflexes kick in and he swallows. Serves him right for being such a dick about it. After a few syringes, she pauses, because he seems to be having trouble breathing.

“Fuck you,” he gasps, and really, is that necessary? Like she’s the one who started this?

“We wouldn’t need to do this if you would just eat. All this over a little applesauce? It’s ridiculous.”

“Fuck you,” he repeats, glaring now, and if he has enough air to swear at her he’s ready to eat more. 

“This would be so much easier if you would cooperate,” she sighs as she prepares another syringe. His only response is to grit his teeth, so she proceeds to feed him the rest of the meal. At first, he continues to struggle, turning his head away, trying to pull his arms free, and refusing to swallow. Then suddenly that resistance is just… gone. At first, he just freezes, staring at her. He’s not fighting anymore, but he’s not doing anything else either. He doesn’t even react to the liquid building up in his mouth except to keep it from dripping down his throat.

“You’re not getting out of eating just because you’re holding it in your mouth. Swallow.” He does. Then he stares some more. He looks… scared, maybe? What does he have to be scared of?

“I’m sure this isn’t a fun way to eat, but you’re the one who refused to eat it the normal way. There’s no need to be so dramatic.” He doesn’t move, and his expression doesn’t change.

She gives him another syringe of the smoothie. He flinches, but otherwise doesn’t react. He swallows when she tells him to. What’s going on? This isn’t like him at all. It’s so much easier, though.

“That’s better. Why can’t you always act like this? Then I wouldn’t have had to do this in the first place.” She glances up for a response, and his sockets look… hollow. That’s the only way to describe them. He’s still conscious, the working eyelight is still lit, but something looks really wrong, like he isn’t quite there, and doesn’t want to be wherever he actually is. Still, he’s eating, and she’s not going to stop now when she’s finally getting him to swallow instead of choke on it. Maybe he’ll follow other commands?

“Open your mouth.” He does. This lets her reposition the syringe for a better path to his throat. “Now swallow.” He does. This is weird. Why is he suddenly doing what she tells him? It’s convenient, but completely out of character. Still, they need to finish this meal. Maybe he’ll drink from the straw now?

She replaces the syringe with the straw, and still he doesn’t react. He just lets it sit in his mouth while he stares at her.

“Drink that. We don’t have all day.” He practically inhales it. “Well that’s quite the change. I’m not sure what I did, but maybe I should do it more often.” Does he look… pleading? That’s a new look for him. It sends an uncomfortable shiver down her spine, but at the same time, it’s kind of nice to have him finally respecting her authority. Despite being her research subject, he’s pretty much been doing whatever he wants, and she’s had to run around picking up the pieces. It’s about time he realizes she’s in charge. <strike>She doesn’t feel at all like she’s betrayed the trust of someone who was depending on her. Not one bit</strike>.

“Get some sleep, ok? I’ll come check on you in a little while.” No reaction. He just keeps staring at her.

“You’ll be ok. I’m sorry that was so hard for you. If you would just cooperate more often, this would all be a lot easier.” He snorts. A reaction! But not one she was looking for. Here she was worried about him, and he thinks it’s funny.

“It can’t have been too bad if you’re laughing about it. You have to stop making such a big deal out of everything. You’re going to be here for a while. You’ll have to learn to live with some things you don’t like.” She tries to emphasize her message by looking him in the eye, but he won’t look at her. He just lowers his eyes, almost seeming submissive if she didn’t know better.

“Just stop fighting me over every little thing and we won’t have to do this again.” And now the look of terror is back in full force. What’s with him? He freaks out over the most random things. It must be the medicine. “Get some sleep.” She heads back into the office. There’s nothing she can do with him until he comes back to reality.

***

Twist trembles as she leaves. Trapped, he’s trapped he’s trapped he’s trapped. Can’t move and it’s dark, with the taste of apples on his breath, can’t move and it hurts, can’t see, it’s dark. No, not dark. He blinks. Not dark; it’s bright. Too bright. But he’s still trapped. Trapped, and hurt, apples in his mouth, his throat, the smell in his nose, can’t move, can’t get out, tasting her. But she’s gone, everyone’s gone, Sans is gone. Sans what happened to Sans? Find him, save him, have to find him. But he can’t! Can’t move. He tries, but his arms are locked in place, can’t move at all, wait, his arms? Why just his arms? It shouldn’t be his arms, not just his arms, all of him is trapped, not just his arms. What’s happening? He’s trapped wrong and it’s too bright, and the apple’s not just an apple but it’s not like her either. Where is she? She left. Who left? Not her, the other one. The other one was here. Muffet wasn’t here, is never here anymore. It’s always just the other one. Yellow lizard monster in a lab coat, Alphys, Iggy, she’s Iggy! Who’s Iggy?

Is Iggy with Muffet? Must be. Muffet owns him. He’s hers. He won’t let her but he can’t stop her. Can’t stop her can’t make her let him out, can’t be good enough so she won’t lock him in the dark again, little trunk where he can’t move, too broken to move, broken, his face is broken! No, it’s fine, it broke a long time ago, it’s fine now. He’s not trapped in the dark. He hasn’t been in a very long time. But he is trapped. Can’t move can’t get out can’t- No. Calm. Breathe. He can breathe. There’s plenty of air, no smell of spent magic. Apple, there’s apple, but no spider; all this over a little apple a little applesauce it’s just applesauce in his smoothie isn’t she kind to make it taste better, always helping him and he never cooperates, be good or he won’t get out he’ll never get out- No. Calm. It’s not even real. Breathe.

Think. Be good. Be obedient. That’s how to get out. It worked with Muffet and it’ll work with Iggy. She said sleep. He can’t sleep. Then pretend. Don’t make her do it again. Make her?! He didn’t make her do anything, she did it, acts like she’s helping, like it’s all his fault. He doesn’t even know why he’s here, but she’s the one who locked him up, shot fucking applesauce down his throat! Stop. It doesn’t help. Don’t fight her. Do what she wants. Be obedient. Cooperate. He doesn’t want to doesn’t want to just wants to go home back to Sans save Sans no Sans is already saved, doesn’t need saved, doesn’t need him, he’s fine, he’s safe with their friends, oh their friends he forgot their friends. He misses them, wants to go home so badly, but can’t go home can’t get out he’s trapped. 

He’s so tired now. He should sleep. She said to sleep, and he needs to cooperate. He wants to sleep but it’s so hot in here he can’t. It’s so hot, he’s so hot, fuck his soul is burning and it hurts, everything hurts, please stop please stop just make it stop. The pain builds like it has every other time and he wants to scream, but she might come back if he screams and she’ll see he’s not sleeping. Don’t scream, don’t scream, but he screams, and he can’t stop. He tries so hard to stop, knowing any minute she’ll come in and see he’s not doing what she told him to do, and then she’ll, then she’ll… He can’t imagine anything worse than this. The agony is overwhelming and blocks out any other thoughts.

As always, it eventually fades. He remembers where he is <strike>maybe</strike>. He remembers why he’s here <strike>mostly</strike>. He remembers that Iggy has nothing to do with Muffet, unless she does and he doesn’t know it, and maybe she does, probably she does, because he can’t ever get away. He threw his life away when he let her have him and his brother, and kept throwing it away with every bit of EXP he gained, and he’ll never get it back. It doesn’t matter why he’s here. It won’t fix anything anyway. He wants to go home.

***

There’s been something wrong with Twist ever since the applesauce incident, as Iggy now thinks of it. Well really, there’s been something wrong with him ever since she first tied his arms down, but it’s been worse since the applesauce incident. It’s hard to say exactly why it bothers her so much. He’s much easier to work with now. He never argues. He does exactly what she says to the best of his ability. He even apologizes when he thinks he’s done something wrong. It’s just… something isn’t right. This isn’t how he acts, and people don’t just suddenly change personalities. Maybe he actually was feeling sick earlier.

She forgot to free him when she finished feeding him, but he’s had several attacks since then so it’s just as well that she hasn’t had to tie him up again each time. Just as well for her, but shouldn’t he be complaining about it? He’s not complaining about anything anymore. Sometimes he’ll seem like he’s about to, but he’ll cut himself off right before speaking and turn away. He didn’t even complain about the applesauce in his dinner, although he did gag on it. She really needs to replace that blender, or maybe just try leaving out the fruit altogether.

This has just been a terrible day all around. But if she’s reading these results correctly, it’s about to get a lot better. She runs the analysis again. The trend is still there! It’s hard to see with such noisy data, but it’s there, and it’s unmistakable. She prints off the chart of the readout and runs to the lab to show Twist. Maybe _this_ will improve his mood!

***

Twist stares at the ceiling. There’s not much else to do, so he might as well. He’s certainly not going to ask for entertainment. Poking at Iggy used to be kind of entertaining, but he clearly misjudged that relationship. The safest thing now is to be quiet and not attract any attention. He’s supposed to be sleeping, but he can’t manage it like this. His soul is burning, not like an attack but just the constant heat that might fade into the background but never really goes away. It was easier when he could curl up in a protective ball around it, physically less painful and it made him feel better. Now he’s sprawled on his back with his arms spread, soul exposed to the whole world, or at least the whole empty lab. She won’t untie him anymore. He knew this would happen. There’s no point in asking. She’ll say it’s for his own good and ramble about how he doesn’t know what’s best for him and she does. He could panic, but he’s run out of energy to panic. So he just stares at the ceiling.

The office door slams open. Twist flinches as Iggy runs into the lab, but she doesn’t seem angry. Instead, she shoves a paper in front of his face and shouts, “look, look!” in the happiest voice he’s heard all week.

Twist has no idea what he’s supposed to be looking at, but he obediently stares at the dots on the paper. If she wants more, she’s going to have to say so.

“Do you know what this means?” She’s practically bouncing, she’s so excited. Maybe he can risk an honest answer.

“Can’t say I do. Should I?” It must have something to do with him, or she wouldn’t be showing it to him. Something good having to do with him? What could it possibly be?

“It means your EXP is destabilizing! Look, the reading jumps all over the place, but there’s definitely a downward trend in stability. It’s small, but it’s there!” Twist still doesn’t know what he’s looking at, but that sounds like…

“Wha’s that mean, darlin’?” It can’t mean what he hopes it means. It just can’t. This whole thing was a mistake and there’s no way anything good can come out of it, there’s no way…

“It means the treatment is working! Really slowly, slower than I’ve ever seen it work, but it’s working! It’s dissolving LV 17 without melting you! This is amazing! It’s working!”

It does mean what he hopes it means. Holy shit. His EXP is destabilizing, whatever that means. EXP isn’t LV, but it causes LV, so if it keeps going, does that mean his LV will go down? It should. Even dropping down to 16 would make a world of difference. 16 wasn’t easy, but it was easier than 17. And if he can get to 16, he can get to 15, and 14, and just keep going until he doesn’t have any more. What's it even like to live without LV? He can barely remember.

“How long?”

“There’s no way to know. It’s not a linear trend. EXP doesn’t dissolve piece by piece like overall LV does. It’s more like fluctuating waveforms that combine to create LV. This isn’t even a direct measurement of the EXP itself. That wouldn’t actually tell us anything because we’re not targeting the EXP, more like the way the EXP interlocks…”

She keeps babbling, but it’s all nonsense to him. What isn’t nonsense is that the treatment is working. Whatever else happens, whatever he has to go through, it’s working. She said it’s slow. Ok, he’ll wait. Nothing has been so bad that getting rid of LV isn’t worth it.

Dreams of a future he never dared to imagine take the place of staring at the ceiling as Iggy rushes off to do something in her office. What could he do without LV hanging over his head, living on the surface with no one to answer to but the people he wants to answer to and decades laid out before him? What’s it like not to live on the edge of losing his mind, not to be afraid that one mistake could be the difference between another day with his brother and falling too far to ever come back? Everyone living their lives together, doing everything without a deadline, all the time in the world to do whatever he wants. These are so much better thoughts to sleep with. He’s tired now, but that’s fine. If there’s ever a night that could be free of nightmares, it should be this one. He starts to turn over to sleep, and is brought crashing right back down to earth when he can’t move his arm.

He can’t turn over. He’s still trapped. Still exactly where he was a few minutes ago. Iggy is still the same, and he’s as helpless as ever. All that peaceful dreaming shatters on the rocks of that reality. Still, that spark of hope remains. The treatment is working. Whatever happens will be worth it. He’ll make it worth it.

***

Back in her office, Iggy pulls up her weekly report. It was so worth waiting for better results. No one ever needs to know, but she was a little worried that the treatment wouldn’t work on Twist. What if it wasn’t possible to disrupt LV 17 without the kinds of concentrations that melted her earlier subjects? The calculations showed that shouldn’t be true, but the calculations said that everything should have happened much more quickly than it has with Twist. What if they were completely wrong? But now she knows they were right about the outcome, if not the timing. 

> Evidence of successful EXP destabilization was observed 5 days post initiation of treatment. This indicates a delay relative to lower LV subjects but does not fall outside of expected parameters. Subject continues to demonstrate significant side effects of treatment, but all side effects continue to be managed effectively. All data indicates that treatment is progressing successfully. Subject will continue to be monitored for further progress.

Looking forward to the major donor’s response to her success, Iggy glances through the report one more time and hits send.


	7. Chapter 7

On the sixth day of Twist’s LV treatment, Iggy wakes from a good night’s sleep to a calm, quiet lab. It’s so different from every other day of the treatment that it feels almost unnaturally peaceful. No monitors are blaring, no one is screaming, no one is crashing to the floor because they absolutely will not stay in bed under any circumstances. Everything is just quiet. It’s strange, but it’s also a nice change.

A quick glance into the lab reveals that Twist is lying quietly in bed, just as he should be. Seeing that all is well with her research subject, Iggy starts making breakfast. There hasn’t been a chance to replace the blender yet, so the options are applesauce or plain protein mixture. Twist really hated the applesauce, more than she’d ever imagined anyone hating any food. If she’d known how much he’d hate it, she wouldn’t have given him any. 

Maybe making him eat it was a little excessive. He could easily have lost more magic fighting her than he gained from the drink, and besides that, no one likes to be force-fed. But he was being so unreasonable! He can’t just throw a tantrum over everything he doesn’t like. If he gets away with that, they’ll never get anything done.

Still, her reaction was unprofessional, driven more by anger and exhaustion than by the needs of the research or the research subject. She did not get to be royal scientist by derailing her own work out of pettiness. It wasted a lot of energy and appeared to trigger a flashback. That sort of flashback can make a subject more cooperative in the short term but may cause more trouble in the long term. Besides, it’s unnecessarily cruel. Well, she might as well blame it on being overworked and working with a difficult subject. Hopefully with his newly improved cooperation, it will be easier to keep her temper in check and remain professional. At least as long as his cooperation lasts.

He asked to have the protein-calorie concentration mixture plain rather than with applesauce, so that’s what he’s going to get. It’s not a choice she can imagine making, but it’s not the first strange thing he’s done. Bringing the drink into the lab, Iggy finds Twist half awake, sockets half open and working eyelight unlit. He may not have had as restful of a night as she did. 

He doesn’t react when she approaches the bed or announces her presence with a greeting. However, when she places the straw against his teeth, he startles so badly that the sudden movement nearly knocks the cup out of her hand. Steadying the cup back in place, she notices that his eyelight is lit and staring right at her. Okay, he’s awake. Now to get a response. 

“Good morning! Great to see you finally with me. How are you doing today?”

“Fine.” Not very talkative, but he’s responding, so that’s good enough.

“I brought breakfast.” He shrinks away. “Hey, none of that. Open your mouth.”

Eyelight shrunken to a pinprick, he complies.

“Good. Now take a drink.” He tentatively sucks on the straw, then his sockets widen.

“Well there you go, one plain, terrible smoothie, just like you wanted. I don’t see how this is any better than the applesauce, but it’s what you asked for.”

Twist’s whole body relaxes, losing the tension that she hadn’t realized it was holding. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” he mumbles around the straw. That uncomfortable hint of guilt creeps in again. He really hated that applesauce. It makes no sense, but a lot of things he does make no sense. There’s no way to accommodate all of his preferences, but it’s easy enough to leave his drinks in their original form.

“No problem. See, I’m not trying to be mean. You just need to let me know what you want without throwing a fit about it, and if it’s reasonable, I’ll do it.”

Twist mutters something under his breath. 

“What was that?” Is he going to start backtalking again? So much for being more cooperative.

“Nothin’.” The cooperation didn’t even last a day, and after she’s just done what he asked about the applesauce.

“If you have something to say, just say it. I’m tired of you complaining about every single thing I do and acting like I’m treating you terribly, so let’s hear your brilliant commentary.” He glares at her. Glares! He sure was more pleasant to work with last night. Any hint of guilt she felt is long gone.

“Jus’ wonderin’ what’s ‘reasonable’.” Of all the nerve!

“Are you implying that I’m not being reasonable? If anything, I’ve been _too_ reasonable. You’re the most uncooperative research subject I’ve ever worked with, other than the ones who’d already lost their minds before I ever met them. Maybe you have more in common with them than I thought. Is that what you’re doing, trying to start fights like they do? I’ll tell you now, I won’t put up with it, not from them and not from you. You at least should know better.” So much for keeping her temper around him, but he’s infuriating!

He shrinks back again, like he’s scared of her. What possible reason could he have to be scared of her? “Don’t give me that crap. You’re fine.” Well, he’s not exactly _fine_. He’s actually in pretty bad shape, but there’s no reason to blame it all on her. Still, it’s important to remember the kind of condition he’s in before going off on him completely.

“Look, I get that you don’t feel great right now, and some of the things I’ve had to do to you have been unpleasant, but you knew this wouldn’t be fun when you agreed to it in the first place. I’m trying to make it go as smoothly as possible, but you keep fighting me every step of the way. So yes, I’ll do what’s ‘reasonable’. It’s reasonable to keep you from hurting yourself. It’s reasonable to make sure you eat, and it’s not reasonable for you to expect me to cater to your taste in food. These drinks taste terrible, they just do, and there’s nothing I can do about that, but you need them. Everything I’m doing is for your own good. I wouldn’t’ve had to do half of the things you haven’t liked if you would just cooperate.”

He still looks like he’s scared of her! Ugh. How did she end up as the bad guy, here? “Just do what I say and you’ll be fine.” He snorts. Again with the snorting! It’s like he thinks she won’t notice that he’s arguing with her if he doesn’t actually say anything. But whatever, it’s fine. They have more important things to do today.

“Ok, on with the day! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re a mess.”

“Yeah.”

“Agreement, great, we’re making progress already! So anyway, you’re a mess, and that’s totally to be expected, but it’s getting kind of gross, so I thought today would be a good day for a bath.”

He looks down at his ribs and arms. They’re as bad as the rest of him, covered in a light sheen of spent magic, blood under the claws from where he scratched up his ribs, her arms, pretty much everything. There’s dried blood on all of the old scratches, and that might even be a little bit of smoothie on his face. She might possibly have forgotten to keep him clean in the midst of everything else that’s happened.

“Yeah, you’re really a mess. Sorry, I guess that’s my fault. I really should have done something about it earlier, but here we are. Oh well, nothing like a long, relaxing soak to get rid of it all.”

“Got a bathtub here?” Ooh, another sentence. Maybe an argumentative one? But she’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

“No, but it’s easy enough to bring in a tub and fill it with water. I don’t think a shower would go well, and you’re too dirty to try to clean in bed.” Not that she’s looking forward to it. He needs scrubbed as much as he needs a good soak, and he’s not going to be able to do it himself. She really should have hired a nurse for him or an assistant for herself. Giving people baths is not within the duties of the royal scientist. And he’s _definitely_ going to have some comments about her bathing him. There’s no way she’s escaping the innuendo from that. The alternative is leaving him in this mess, though, which would be unpleasant for both of them and will only get worse. She’ll have to suck it up and deal with it. 

Getting a tub and filling it from the lab sink is as simple as she expected, though also as tedious. She even decides to be extra nice and brings over some in a bucket so he can tell her if it’s the right temperature. He says it’s fine, so she finishes filling the tub and begins the next part of the tedious process.

“That monitor is stationary and it’s definitely not water resistant. I’m going to temporarily switch it out with a basic HP monitor that’s waterproof and can sit right on your soul.

“Ya mean I don’ gotta be attached ta this thing?” He scowls as he gestures to the monitor. Of course he takes this as something to complain about.

“Normally you do. Your typical monitor not only keeps an accurate reading of your exact HP at all times, but it also tracks a whole other set of stats that are important for my research. All the smaller one does is keep a rough estimate of HP and alert me when it drops below certain thresholds. It’s enough to keep you safe but doesn’t provide nearly enough data for the research. But I’d rather lose a few minutes of data than get the real monitor wet and lose the whole thing.”

“Okay.”

Removing the wires is easier said than done. Now that he can’t pull them out himself anymore, the area around them has calcified significantly, holding them in place. That’s great for maintaining a continuous data stream, but it will make it hard to switch monitors.

“Looks like I’m going to need to get rid of all this before I can get those wires out. While I’m at it, I should probably clear away the other calcifying areas, too. It’s not bad enough yet that I can’t get a shot through it, but we wouldn’t want to wait for an emergency to find out that it had become bad enough for that.” He’s not really listening, just staring at his soul. He looks worried.

“Hey, what are you so worried about? Does it still bother you when I work on your soul? I thought you were over that by now, although I guess I haven’t done much with it lately except when you’re distracted. You’ve really got to get used to it. I’m not going to hurt it.”

“Since when?”

“Okay, yes, I mean I know some of the things I’ve done to it have hurt, but I’ve never actually _damaged_ it, not really. I’ve kept everything on the surface to protect the inside, just like I told you in the beginning.”

“Surface is bad enough,” he mutters. There’s really no call for this much complaining.

“Look, tough guy, I’m doing the best I can. I’m sure you’ve been through a lot worse than a little soul damage. I’m making this as painless as possible, but some things are unavoidable, so you’re just going to have to suck it up. I’m not risking being unable to get those magic infusions in, and we need to change monitors, so this stuff is coming off.” With that, she lays his soul beside him on the bed and retrieves the calcification stripping device from the desk where she left it.

Twist gasps when he sees what she has, pressing his back into the mattress. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’ve used this on you before and you were fine. Don’t look at me like that, you were fine. I’m sure it hurts, but it’s better than dusting from HP loss. Just because I’ve been able to get the needle in so far doesn’t mean I always will. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Twist is trembling, eyes locked on the device. At least he can’t attack her this time. She should have tied him up from the beginning. He whimpers as she sets his soul in the mouth of the device, being careful to align the wires so that they won’t break when she turns it. It probably does hurt quite a bit with the medicine making his soul oversensitive. Oh well, best to get it over with quickly.

With a quick, sharp motion, Iggy turns the two halves of the device, neatly slicing off the calcifying layer. Ignoring the resulting screams and frantic thrashing, she picks off the few remaining pieces, pulls out the wires, and sticks the portable monitor into a space with relatively little damage. Its needle goes in easily and the monitor sticks to the surface. If only the other monitor was so convenient.

“There, like I said, over in no time at all. It sure is easier to work quickly without you trying to attack me.” When his thrashing calms and his screams fade to whimpers, she sets his soul back inside his chest. She might have lost a hand if she’d tried that in the beginning. 

“See, it’s no trouble at all with you tied up. You’d just make it worse for yourself if you were free to move.” He doesn’t respond. Good. Maybe taking off the calcification has managed to cut through that defiance he was rebuilding. It was really getting on her nerves.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up. I’m going to untie your hands, and DON’T scratch me.” Not that there seems to be much danger of that. He’s just staring at the ceiling, unresponsive again. She’s not forgetting those first couple of days, though. Anything could set him off, even when he’s like this.

He lets her untie his hands without causing any trouble, only pulling them in to press tightly against his ribs. This is going to be so much easier than she thought, at this rate. But now he needs to get in the tub. He’s not that heavy, but he’s so tall. There’s no way he can walk on his own, but maybe if she helps him?

***

Twist’s soul is nothing but agony, the constant pain that burns deep inside it and now the new pain on the surface. There’s a reason for this, he knows there is, but it’s too hard to focus and he’s not sure the real reason is any better than the ones he’s imagining. Part of his mind almost remembers, but most of it is pretty sure this is some kind of torture, probably some kind of punishment. Who knows for what, but he must have really fucked up.

When his gaze drifts from the ceiling, he sees the yellow monster again. Oh, her, he remembers her. She hates him. Or she loves him, loves to hurt him maybe, and why is he here with her? Oh yeah, LV. But what about LV? Is she mad that he has it? Does she want him to have more of it? No, it’s… he knows this. It’s a cure! Stars, it’s a cure, but if she’s curing him, then why is she doing this to him? Did he fuck up the cure, somehow? Probably. Hopefully not completely. Maybe he just pissed her off. In that case, he needs to fix it. Think, be good, be obedient, cooperate. Focus, she’s talking.

“Think you can walk across the room if I help you? We need to get you into the tub.” _<strike>Why don’t we walk around the room a little, dearie?</strike>_ No! That’s not what she said. That’s not where he is. He’s with… Iggy, that’s her name! Not Muffet. Not Muffet! Iggy.

“Hey, I asked you a question! Answer me. Can you walk if I help you? Yes or no?” A question. Have to answer her question. What’s the answer?

“Dunno? Uh… whatever ya wan’. Sorry, dunno?” Fuck, that’s not an answer!

Iggy sighs. “Just answer the question. Yes or no? It’s not that hard.”

He doesn’t know what she wants! All he can do is stare at her as he’s paralyzed by fear and indecision. She wants an answer and he doesn’t know what answer she wants.

“Can you walk if I help you or not? Yes or no? I don’t care what your answer is, I just need to know so I can decide what to do.”

She wants the truth? But he doesn’t know the truth. “Dunno if I c’n walk,” he whispers.

She sighs again. He’s annoying her. She’s going to hurt him. She’s already hurt him. She’ll make it worse. “Fine, I guess you wouldn’t know. Let’s just test it out, and if it doesn’t work, I have plenty of practice in getting you back into bed.

Try it out. Try walking. Ok. He tenses when she puts an arm behind his back, tenses even more when she lifts him and swings his legs over the side. It hurts to move, and she’s so close, she’s touching him, what does she want, it’s never good, and where are they going, to punish him more? Why do they need to do that, what can she do there that she can’t do here, why is he going along with it, why isn’t he fighting her? Because he can’t fight her, it never does any good, he tried it here and before and it only made things worse, don’t fight, cooperate, be obedient. It’s the only way out.

“There we go. See, that wasn’t so bad. Now just set your feet on the floor, and we’ll almost be there. I’ll take most of your weight. You just try to make your legs work. Come on, you’ll only lose energy by sitting here.”

Feet on the floor. He can do that. He shifts forwards slightly. Pain shoots through his knees, hips, and every joint in his feet, to match the pain that was already shooting up his spine, but he makes it to his feet with her help. She seems pleased.

“Good job, we made it! Now take a step.” She says it like it’s easy, like he knows how to do it. He should know. He walked before this, walked everywhere he went, because there was a time before this and he was fine, and he knew how to walk, but now he can’t get his legs to obey, doesn’t even know what to tell them to do, and-

“Woah, woah, woah, don’t freak out. Just move one foot forward, then shift your weight onto it.” Move one foot forward. He can do that. Except his foot won’t move, probably needs to be lifted off the ground first, and he can’t lift it off the ground, is using all of his strength just to stay standing, and his magic won’t carry the signals the right way, so he can’t even start to coordinate the movement.

“Come on, just move. I’m not standing here all day. You can do it, just take a step.” He can’t! Shit, what will she do to him for disobeying?

“Sorry, ‘m sorry. I can’t.” 

“You can’t? Weird. Just do this.” She reaches down towards his leg, what’s she going to do? But she only lifts it a little and pulls it forward, like walking. Walking, that’s how you do it! That’s how you walk. He remembers the movement pattern, <strike>pushes down the horror that he forgot something so basic, what’s happening to his mind?</strike> and takes another step. Each step is agony, but she doesn’t let him fall no matter how much his legs tremble, and eventually they reach a tub of water.

“What’s that for?” Is she going to drown him? Is it boiling? <strike>He’s melted so much lately, please don’t let it be hot</strike>. It looks too small to drown him, unless she leans him over the side and just sticks his head in, which seems like a lot of work on her part since she’s the one who has to hold him up. It’s not big enough to dump him in it and let him drown. He could probably fit in it, but his head wouldn’t go under water, which supports the boiling theory, or maybe there’s something in there like acid.

“It’s a bathtub. Have you already forgotten why we’re over here? You’re a total mess. You need a bath.” A bath? All this over a bath? Why would she stop to give him a bath, is she done punishing him? What’s he even being punished for? How can he guess what might happen when he doesn’t even know why she’s mad at him? But if she wants him to take a bath, that’s not worth fighting over. It might even be nice to be clean.

“Yeah, guess I do.” She seems pleased with his agreement. At least he’s done something right. Remember, be obedient.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to step into the tub, but she solves that problem by backing him up to the edge and lowering him in. <strike>shoves him in</strike>. No that’s not what’s happening, focus, don’t fight her <strike>can’t fight her.</strike> Stop! It’s fine.

It’s not too bad, actually, once he gets settled and his joints stop screaming about the new position. The water is a nice temperature, and the buoyancy takes some of the pressure from the partially upright position off of his spine and pelvis. He could almost relax. Except…

It’s a really small tub. He fits, but only barely, and his spine, arms, and legs are all pressed up against the sides. It’s not like the trunk. It’s not. The top is open and the whole thing is filled with water. It’s completely different. It’s different, it’s not the same not the same at all it’s just a bath not a trunk he’s not locked in but can’t get out but it’s not the same-

Someone touches him, and he grabs their hand. Digs his claws in, she won’t touch him, won’t let her touch him, please don’t touch him - He shouldn’t have done that, didn’t mean to, let go let go let go, it’s too late, what has he done?

“Get your hands off of me right now!” She’s pissed, she’s so pissed, of course she’s pissed, he stuck his claws in her arm, why did he do that, so stupid, what the fuck is wrong with him?

“You fucking asshole. Every single time I do something for you, you do something like this. What’s wrong with you? Every time I untie you, I regret it. I won’t be making that mistake again.” Leaving, she’s leaving, she’s going to get something, what’s she getting, what’s she going to do? He’s shaking.

She returns with zip ties. Why zip ties?

“I don’t want your leather straps getting wet, so I was actually going to be nice and let you stay untied during your bath since I’ll be with you, but now I don’t feel like being nice anymore, so I’ll just use these.” Oh, they’re for his wrists. Of course they are.

“There’s not really anything to attach them to, here, but you’re not going anywhere in that tub so I’ll just tie your wrists to your femurs. I wouldn’t do this if you were in bed, because it wouldn’t keep you in place and it could hurt you more if you fell out, but it’ll stop you from using your hands, which is all it needs to do. I’m sure it won’t be comfortable, but frankly, I don’t care right now. You should be glad this is all I’m doing after what you did to my arm.” He is glad; it could be so much worse, but it still freaks him out and he’s not sure she’s telling the truth about not doing anything else to him. She’s obviously furious.

Twist forces himself to be still as Iggy wraps the zip ties between his ulna and radius and then around his femur. Don’t fight her. Don’t fight her, don’t fight her don’t fight her don’t fight her, hold still, he can’t! He panics, trying to rip his arm free, feels the tie pulling on his radius like it’s going to snap it. Why’d she tie it like that, does she want him to break his arm? Fine let it break, he’ll get loose, can get away, no can’t get away because he’s stuck in a fucking box!

“Stop that. Are you trying to break your arm? I don’t think you can, but you’re sure giving it a good try. Come on, it’s just a bath! How can a bath be this much of a problem for you?”

Twist has no idea what she’s talking about as she ties down his other arm. She sounds mad at him. Great. Sorry for not staying calm while she ties him up and locks him in a box. No, it’s not a box, it’s not… Water! A bath, she said it’s a bath! Iggy wants to give him a bath. It’s Iggy, not Muffet. <strike>Is Iggy any better than Muffet?</strike> Yes, she fucking is, she’s trying to help him, as she reminds him every fucking time he sees her, and it’s just a fucking bath, calm down!

“Will you _hold still_? I should have known you’d have some reason to hate baths, too, but I’m not going to this much trouble just to send you back to bed dirty. Just hold still for five minutes so we can get this over with!”

Hold still and get it over with. He can hold still. He can. He knows where he is, his mind is about as intact as it ever gets these days, he can do this. There’s not even anything he has to _do_, just hold still. Not like fighting her is going to do any good, anyway, whoever she is.

Whoever? She’s Iggy. He knows that. She’s been Iggy the whole time. Which means Iggy was the one who…? No, that’s not real. Most of what he remembers lately isn’t real, or at least isn’t real now <strike>but it was real and if it happened once it could happen again</strike> No. He’s not there and it doesn’t matter. They’re just memories, not even real. Remember Iggy. <strike>But some of it was real and Iggy did it</strike> Iggy is helping him. Muffet never helped him. <strike>Yes she did that’s why he needed her that’s why he stayed even when she</strike> Stop. This is different <strike>sure because now he physically can’t leave like when</strike> fucking stop it.

He flinches when she touches his face. Iggy or Muffet, he hates when she touches him. Iggy, it’s Iggy, <strike>why’s it matter?</strike> It matters. Iggy’s not here to hurt him, she’s not punishing him. Except she’s pissed, remember she’s pissed. He scratched her earlier and it pissed her off, because of course it did. How could he be so fucking stupid? He knows he’s helpless here, what good was that supposed to do? Now she’s pissed, and what’s she going to do? She’s not Muffet but that wasn’t all Muffet, some of it was real, some-

“Hey, I said hold still! Can’t you listen for even thirty seconds?” He realizes he’s been trying to keep his face away from her, and freezes. Don’t disobey. She’s mad enough already, just do what she says, it’s the only way to get through this <strike>even though it doesn’t actually help, she’ll do what she wants anyway</strike> Just don’t fucking move!

It’s just Iggy. <strike>Iggy’s not better! </strike>Yes she is, she’s barely done anything to him, it’s all been in his own stupid fucking head. But she’ll do more to him now if he doesn’t do what she says. She wants him cooperative. She’s said it all along. She wouldn’t have to do anything to him if he’d just cooperate, he’s making it so much worse by making everything a big deal, just do what she wants and he’ll be fine.

What does she want? She said she wants to give him a bath. That’s a weird thing for her to want. It’s suspicious. Is she playing some kind of game? She loves games, loves to fuck with his head, no that’s not Iggy, that’s Muffet. This can’t be all she wants, he’s made her mad, she wants something _<strike>now come apologize for your behavior</strike>_ Iggy is not Muffet!

She finishes with his skull and moves down his body. It feels weird. A washcloth, it’s a washcloth. <strike>feels like little legs scrabbling all over him</strike> It’s a washcloth, because she’s cleaning him, obviously. He’s losing time. Her hands are everywhere, too many hands. No, they’re not, Iggy has two hands, and they’re holding a washcloth, because she’s scrubbing him clean, because this is a bath. But she’s scrubbing too hard, and it hurts, everything always hurts and nothing he does will make her stop because she doesn’t want to stop, she wants to hurt him, only ever wants to hurt him and use him and fuck him because that’s all he’s good for. No, that’s not where he is, that’s not where he is! Iggy doesn’t want that. What does Iggy want?

Something brushes against his pelvis. It’s a light little brush like little legs while something presses his lower ribs hard enough that they might break. Is that what she wants? The pressure leaves his ribs and scrapes down his spine. Please don’t dig in please don’t dig in please don’t dig in. He sighs in relief when she doesn’t. Now the pressure’s on his pelvis. Ok, that’s definitely what she wants. He can do that. Do what she wants. He knows this role.

Except he can’t, because nothing will manifest! He calls up his magic, but it just swirls aimlessly and won’t form anything solid. Shit. If she can’t fuck him, what will she do instead? What if she thinks he’s disobeying on purpose? She’s so mad at him already.

“Sorry, sorry, I can’t, sorry, ‘m tryin.’

“Trying what?” She looks down at the bone she’s cleaning, then recoils in disgust. “Are you seriously turned on by this?”

“Sorry! I c’n do better. Jus’… jus’ gimme a sec,” he pleads. A reaction like that means such bad things. Just the thought freezes his breath.

“You’d better do better. How many times have I told you I’m not interested?” Not interested? What? She’s always ‘interested’. Unless she wants something else. “Get your weird, perverted mind out of the gutter or you can just stay like this until you can clean yourself up.” Twists seizes on the first clear hint she’s given as to what she wants him to do.

“Clean… ‘m too dirty? Ya wan’… Ya wan’ me ta clean m’self up? Don’ know how ta do that, darlin’. m’ kinda, kinda stuck. Not tryna argue but I think ’m stuck. So I don’ know how…”

“Well obviously not right now! All I want you to do right now is deal with _that_.” She points to his pelvic cavity, where his magic is still swirling formlessly.

“’m tryin’. Swear ‘m tryin’. Can’ get it ta work. Somethin’s wrong with my magic. Think I could manage a tongue though. Would that be okay fer now? Swear I’d make it up to ya later. Promise!” Please let that be good enough. He knows he’s not up to dealing with whatever alternative she might come up with.

“What’s a tongue got to do with anything? Oh, ew, nevermind. I’m not any more interested in your tongue than the rest of you. Seriously, stop it, or I’m leaving you like this.”

“‘m sorry! Don’ know what ya want. Jus’ tell me an’ I’ll do it. Please, I can… I can…” What is she going to do to him for this? She wants him to cooperate. No, that’s Iggy, not Muffet, but no, this is Iggy. But Iggy doesn’t want this, she’s said, so is it Muffet?

“How much clearer can I make this? I. Do. Not. Want. To. Have. Sex. With. You. No tongue, no… whatever’s going on down there. I am a scientist. You are a subject in my experiment. I’m trying to be your doctor, but you’re one of the most uncooperative patients I’ve ever worked with. That’s the only relationship we have, and absolutely nothing I do to you is meant to be sexual in any way. Do you understand!?”

“But… fuck. Ok.” No sex? All he got out of that rant was no sex. Which, on one hand, good, because he’s obviously not getting anything to happen anytime soon, but on the other hand, what’s she doing down there that doesn’t have anything to do with sex? This could be even worse than he thought. Or maybe not? He doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“Seriously, are you _trying_ to piss me off? I’ve told you over and over to stop that, but you never listen.”

“‘m tryin’! Don’ know what ya want!” He can’t breathe. He can’t see. He knows he should breathe, knows he’s freaking out, knows it won’t help him get through this, but he can’t stop. 

“Hey, calm down, you need to breathe.” Calm down, she wants him to calm down. She said calm down, calm down! But he can’t! Can’t do what she wants, doesn’t know what she wants, tried and just made it worse. If she’d just tell him what to do, he’d do it.

“Dunno…” He can’t get enough air to talk, thinks he’s whimpering. She’ll think that’s pathetic. Or maybe she’ll like it. He doesn’t even know anymore. “Dunno… what ya want.”

“Ok, I get it, you’re confused. Just calm down. I don’t want you to do anything but calm down. Look, I’m not touching you anymore. Nothing is touching you but the water. You’re fine. Just calm down.”

Calm down. She stopped touching him so he could calm down. Because this is Iggy, and Iggy wants him calm. Iggy isn’t like Muffet. Do what Iggy says and she won’t hurt him unless she has to.

“Sorry. ‘m sorry.”

“It’s ok. I guess I can see how that could be confusing with the state your mind is in right now. Did you have a flashback?”

“Maybe?” How’s he supposed to know what’s a flashback and what’s real? It’s all starting to seem pretty much the same. It’s not, but it’s beyond him to find the differences at the moment. But Iggy isn’t trying to hurt him, and Iggy is who he’s with.

“That makes sense, then. I wish you could tell me when they happen so I’d know why you’re acting like that, but I guess there’s nothing we can do about it.” Not that she’s trying to do anything about it, as far as he can tell, but he’s not going to say so. Don’t argue. Don’t piss her off. She’s helping him. She’s curing his LV, remember? Don’t make her change her mind.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up and back into bed. I’ve already lost a lot of data from having the full monitor out for so long, and you must be getting tired. I just need to finish your pelvis, legs, and feet, and then we’ll be done. No innuendos, please, but do tell me if something starts to upset you. Let’s try to avoid another panic attack.” No panicking, got it. He’ll keep calm if it kills him. Don’t piss her off.

To her credit, she finishes quickly. Twist keeps himself rigidly still while she cleans his pelvis and upper legs, and then tries to hold his legs in a helpful position while she works around the zip ties and the small space in the tub. He’s not sure he succeeds, but she doesn’t complain, and soon she’s setting the washcloth aside and cutting through the zip ties.

He’s not sure how he gets back to the bed. Iggy must have picked him up at some point, and he’s not wet anymore so she definitely dried him off, but he doesn’t really remember. He can’t have helped much because he knows he used all of his energy in the bath. He doesn’t even have the strength to protest when she straps his arms to the bed again. It’s just as well, he’d just get himself in trouble. He always gets himself in trouble, never makes the right decision, always jumps into things without thinking and it doesn’t go well. But this one… He had to. It was for curing LV, right? He thinks it was. Pretty sure he remembers that. So how could he not jump into it?

So now here he is, and he’s probably going to screw his cure up, too. That’s just like him, throwing away his chance to fix everything just because he has no self-control. Whatever he does, he can’t afford to make Iggy stop helping him. He needs to stop complaining. If he pisses her off, apologize, even if he doesn’t know why. If she wants to punish him, let her. He can’t stop her anyway, and there’s nothing she can do that wouldn’t be worth a cure for LV. Cooperate, just fucking cooperate. Make a good choice for once. 

But he knows he’ll forget. His skull is maybe more screwed up than it’s ever been, so what does it matter if he means to cooperate? Something will set him off, and he’ll panic, or he’ll forget that he’s talking to someone who holds his sanity in her hands and mouth off at the wrong time, and he won’t stop attacking her! Never means to, but that doesn’t matter. And he doesn’t know what she wants. She’s not consistent, and he just isn’t up to figuring her out.

He misses home so badly. How long has he been gone? There’s no way to know. Is he getting anywhere? She said he was, but it was all a bunch of dots on a page and technobabble to him, so that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’ll never get better. Maybe his LV is too high so he’ll just stay like this, strapped to this bed for the rest of his life. Maybe she did it on purpose. Maybe she wanted a toy so she tricked him into becoming one, and he walked right into it, and now it’s all just a bunch of mind games that he’ll never figure out because he can’t even remember who she is or why he’s here.

Maybe he’s been here longer than he thinks. What if the reason he can’t tell past from present is that he’s lost all sense of time, and he’s been with Iggy as long as he was with Muffet and everyone else thinks he’s dead because he never came home? What would they think happened to him? He wants to cry himself at the thought of Blackberry crying, thinking that he lost it one day and decided to get himself killed without saying goodbye or making sure his little bro would be alright or anything. Fuck, why did he do this if the end result would be the same? This was supposed to stop that from happening. She said it would.

It’s not too late. Days or years, he’s still alive, and sane enough that he wants to go home. He has to make it home. How? No clue. He’s helpless, but he’s been helpless and hopeless before, and here he still is. If Muffet couldn’t keep him broken then no one else can either.

He doesn’t know how he’s going home. It doesn’t matter. He just needs to stay alive, and sane, and look for a chance. And he’s getting a fucking LV cure out of it. Whatever he has to do, he’s getting rid of that damn number. It seems impossible. It has from the beginning. He doesn’t know how it works or how he’s going to make it happen. But fuck it. He has hope, and he’s not letting it go.

***

It’s afternoon before Cash gets around to checking his email. It’s mostly the usual; some spam, something from the manager of a property he owns, a few other business-related things, nothing very interesting. There’s a report from the LV project. It’s not something he’s looking forward to reading. There were a few months when he had eagerly anticipated the report every week, when it looked like his investment was about to pay off better than he dared to hope, but then the results from the review panel came in.

They didn’t reject it completely. In fact, they were excited about the project’s progress, but their objections were the exact same problems that the project has been struggling with for months. What are the chances that a solution will suddenly present itself when it didn’t before? The project’s lead scientist assures him that they’ll be solved eventually, but eventually isn’t good enough. They don’t have time for ‘eventually’. Twist doesn’t have time. So now he’s dreading the latest report. He knows what to expect. No progress, or possible leads that might lead to minor progress that might pay off someday or might lead nowhere. That is, until he opens the report.

> A subject who meets the criteria set by the review board has been found. 

A subject has been found. It says a subject has been found!

> Subject is a male skeleton with LV of 17.

What. The. Fuck. A skeleton with LV of 17. She’s found a subject who is a skeleton with LV of 17. As far as he knows, there is only one skeleton with LV of 17. That idiot did _not_ go sign himself up for an unregulated trial for a medicine with a history of melting its users. How would he even know he could? Did he go to her? Did she go to him? If she went to him…

He needs to know more first.

He calls Twist. The call goes straight to voicemail. He calls Blackberry. After far too many rings, Blackberry answers.

“Hello?”

“where’s twist?”

“Well hello, Cash. It’s so nice to hear from you. I’m doing quite well, and you?”

“where is twist?”

“You could try to be at least a little polite if you want me to-”

“where. is. twist.” 

“On vacation, if you really need to know so badly. I don’t see why you’re-”

“on vacation where?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere very exciting, I’m sure.”

“you don’t know because you’re annoyed that I called you or you don’t know because you actually don’t know?”

“I actually don’t know. He texted from work to tell me he was leaving but didn’t tell me where. I didn’t see the text until a few hours later, and when I asked where he was going he didn’t text back.” He’s trying to sound confident, but that’s definitely a hint of worry in his voice. He should be worried.

“and you weren’t at all concerned about that?

“Of course I was concerned, but if I worried every time Papy did something impulsive, I’d never get any peace.”

“can’t argue there. i’ll figure it out. i think i know where he is.”

“Figure what out? If you know where he is, why are you asking me? Cash-” Cash hangs up. Time to go save the idiot from himself. And as for Iggy…


	8. Chapter 8

A door slamming open startles Iggy out of her chair. For a moment, she thinks it’s Twist, but he couldn’t possibly have gotten out of bed and besides, the sound came from outside the lab. Another door slams, and then it’s her office door slamming open as a skeleton steps through. Well, shit.

“where is he?”

“Who are you?” she counters. He has a lot of nerve, storming into her lab like he has a right to be here!

“i go by cash. where’s twist?” Shit, shit, shit. He knows! Or maybe he’s just guessing somehow. Who is he to barge in here anyway?

“Look, _Cash_, I don’t know who you are or why you think you can come into my lab without permission like this, but I’d suggest you leave before I have you removed.”

“answer the question. i know twist is here. you have him for the lv project. take me to him, now.”

“You can’t just come in here and demand to see details of my projects. That’s proprietary work and certainly not open to the general public!” It’s at least not available to interfering skeletons who are definitely going to object to certain necessary parts of the experiment.

“you told me about it yesterday. now i want to see twist.” What? She didn’t tell anyone anything yesterday. Except… no. He can’t be. Her luck is not that bad.

“You’re not…” it seems ludicrous to even suggest, but the universes can be very different and he did say his nickname was Cash…

“the person who’s paying for all this? yes. now that we have that out of the way, where’s twist?”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Ok, time for damage control. He must agree with the goals of the project or he wouldn’t be paying for it, so she just needs to make him understand that she has everything under control and it should be fine. 

“He’s resting right now. I’m sure you know from the reports that the treatment can be hard on the patients and they need lots of rest. He’s happiest when I just leave him alone to sleep.” He looks skeptical, but he’s listening, so she continues. “I’m so grateful that he volunteered to participate in this study, as I’m sure you are too! He’s just what we need to get past the review board, and it’s great for him too because he gets the treatment early!”

“he volunteered, huh? and how did he know there was something to volunteer for?”

“Oh, word gets around.” Technically. People do know the project exists, and someone might have heard about the problems it’s been having.

“word gets around that the only thing standing between you and full approval of the lv cure was needing a research subject exactly like twist.” Skepticism drips from every word.

“Well ok, not exactly like that, but you have to agree that he’s perfect for what we need, and he jumped right on the idea the second I mentioned it. It’s not like I forced him into it. Once he knew about it, I probably couldn’t have kept him away if I tried! He knew it was a win-win situation.”

“and how has this ‘win-win situation’ turned out for him?”

“It’s going great!” Cash raises a brow bone. “I mean, he’s not really feeling that great right now, I’ve told you how the side effects are, but he’s hanging in there and I’m taking good care of him. Like I said in my report, I’ve already seen some EXP destabilization, which is pretty good considering just how much of it we’re dealing with. I think he’s getting frustrated by how long it’s taking to get any results, but he was really happy about the destabilization too, and I’ve told him that it could take a while with how high his LV is. Mostly he’s grumpy, and a little uncooperative, but he agrees with my goals and I have everything managed!”

“so you won’t mind if i talk to him myself, then?” Are all skeletons this difficult? Letting this one talk to Twist will be nothing but trouble.

“I don’t think he’s really up to talking right now. He’s pretty tired, and he needs his energy for the treatment, so I don’t want to disturb his rest.” All technically true, just leaving out a few unpleasant details that someone too close to the subject isn’t going to understand. How close is this Cash to Twist, anyway? She doesn’t know anything about him, but the skeletons all seem to flock together, and he obviously at least knows him.

“i won’t wake him up, then, but i am going to see him.”

“There’s really no need for that! He’s fine. He just needs to rest.” This project does not need interfering friends and family. It could derail the whole thing. Especially friends and family who are apparently the source of most of the project’s money.

“the longer we argue, the more suspicious i get. i suggest you quit while you’re already behind. is that your lab?” He gestures towards the door opposite the one he entered. “i’m guessing yes.” Without waiting for any response from Iggy, he heads through the door. Panicked, and hoping Twist is having a relatively good afternoon, Iggy rushes after him, only to have her own door slammed in her face and locked. Damn excessive security measures. This door shouldn’t be so easily lockable.

***

Cash doesn’t know what he was expecting to see upon entering the lab, but Twist lying naked on a bed in the middle of the room wasn’t it. He approaches the bed cautiously. 

Twist looks terrible. He’s sleeping on his back with both arms tied to the bed. She fucking didn’t! He’ll kill her. Wires trail out of his ribcage, the ends buried in a soul that glows a pale, sickly yellow, the surface raw and somehow rough looking, like pieces have been scooped out. The rest of his magic is the same color as his soul, glowing around each joint like it never should in a healthy sleeping skeleton. Partially healed scratches cover his ribs, and inside his ribcage are what look like scorch marks. Scorch marks?! His breathing is shallow, and he’s twitching in his sleep. Honestly, he looks like he’s about to dust. A quick check reveals that his HP is fine, but it’s hard to discount the sight in front of him. Nausea and rage rise simultaneously, but he forces them both down to deal with the situation in front of him. Figure out what’s going on first. Don’t do anything that might screw up the treatment.

Trying to convince himself that Twist isn’t about to shatter any second now, Cash reaches out to touch his arm. The response is immediate. Twist startles awake and stares at him through frightened, hollow sockets. Then he blinks, and recognition sets in.

“Patches?” Cash never thought he’d be so glad to hear that ridiculous nickname, even in a voice that sounds like sandpaper. “Patches!” A grin lights up Twist’s face, bringing life back into his whole demeanor. He starts to reach for Cash, only to have the movement stopped by the straps around his arms. He deflates, looking worse than he did when Cash first entered the room. Oh, right, someone strapped him to the bed. There better be a damn good explanation for that, but Cash isn’t feeling optimistic.

“what are those for?” He gestures to the straps.

“Dunno. Pissed her off, maybe.” Twist’s voice is flat, like he doesn’t have any strong opinions about it. Or like he won’t let himself have an opinion.

“she strapped you to the bed because you maybe pissed her off?”

“Dunno.” 

“did she at least _tell_ you why she was strapping you to the bed?”

“Maybe. Dunno.” Twist pauses to catch his breath. “Don’ think ’m thinkin’ real good right now, Patches.” His voice is getting stronger with use, but doesn’t lose its raspy quality.

“because you’re normally known for your clear thinking.” The jab gets a faint grin.

“Good ta see ya too, Patches. Patches.” His smile widens.

“yeah, that’s the name you, and only you, like to call me. glad you’re enjoying it.” All sarcasm aside, Twist seems incredibly happy to see him. Not that Twist is ever lacking in enthusiasm, but something seems off about it, especially when combined with everything else about his current state.

“So good ta see ya, sweetheart. Can’t even tell ya. ‘s great. Patches. Patches!”

“no need to yell. i’m right here. not that that usually stops you.”

“Jus’ haven’ seen ya in so long, Patches. ‘s nice ta see ya again.”

“twist, it’s been a week, maybe a little longer. that’s not that long.” 

Twist’s brow bones furrow in confusion. “That can’t be right, darlin'. Been here a lot longer ‘n that.”

“you’ve been here six days.”

“Nah, couldn’ta been six days. Cause I remember… Lots’a stuff.” He shakes his head. “Not sure, ‘s all kinda a mess, but she’s had me a lot longer ‘n six days.”

“twist. i have access to your treatment report. you’ve been here six days. you were bothering me at home eight days ago.”

“Nah, can’t be right. Too many things’ve happened, an’ some of 'em couldn’ta happened in six days. I remember ‘em.” He sounds certain, but Cash definitely saw him eight days ago. It’s hard to forget a tall, loud skeleton showing up on your couch and refusing to leave until you watch some stupid <strike>sort of entertaining</strike> show with him.

Twist must sense his disbelief. “‘m tellin’ ya, darlin, I’ve been here awhile. Don’ really wanna talk ‘bout it, but jus’ believe me. Wait!” Twist’s sockets widen. “Why’re you here? Ya shouldn’t be here. ‘s not safe. She’ll get you too!” This is clearly a horrifying thought from Twist’s perspective, but Cash has no idea what he’s talking about.

“who’ll get me? Iggy?” Twist nods, then shakes his head, then starts to nod again, then shrugs.

“Dunno. Just… ‘s not good. Ya don’ wanna be here, darlin’. Go home.” Twist’s expression darkens as he speaks. So does Cash’s. The things Twist is saying don’t paint a positive picture of his time here. Cash knows about the side effects of the treatment. Iggy detailed them extensively with some of the earlier research subjects, and her report mentioned that Twist was experiencing some of them. But how he’s acting combined with his physical condition, combined with the restraints around his arms, and then Iggy’s attempts to keep Cash from seeing Twist… He doesn’t like how it’s all coming together.

“why don’t I want to be here?” Twist just shakes his head. 

“twisted. answer me. why don’t i want to be here? do you want to be here?”

“Dunno. No, that’s… Yes! Darlin’, do ya know what she’s doin’? She’s curin’ LV!”

“i know, and that’s great, but-”

“Don't ya un’erstand, sweetheart? My LV’ll be gone! Er, probly. Might not work, ‘m not really sure, but ‘s doing somethin’, so I wanna stay, ‘cause it don’ matter what else happens if it works, an’ it’s workin! Probly. I think. But I dunno. Think tha’s it, but it don’t really make sense, an’ I don’ know why she’d do that ‘cause she don’ do things like that, but she is so I thought maybe it wasn’ her, but they’re kinda the same but she’s helpin’ me so I jus’ need ta go along wit’ it an’ cooperate, ‘cause she said do that, but now yer here an’ I don’ think you should be around her ‘cause I’m stuck but you don’ gotta be here so I wish you’d go home an’ be safe, darlin.”

“um. what?” Twist looks very serious, like he’s just conveyed some important information, but Cash is lost.

“Go home. ‘s not good ta be here. Fer you. Uh… go home.” Well that clarifies nothing. Twist might not be the best source of information at the moment. The problem is, Iggy isn’t either, and any reports she might give him access to probably aren’t any better.

“i’m not leaving until i know what’s going on here. why are you in this condition?”

“Sweetheart, Patches, um, Cash… uh… It’s a cure! Didn’ I tell ya? Thought I did. Could be wrong. ‘m not thinkin’ that great.”

“i know it’s a cure for lv. what i don’t understand is how curing lv involves you being strapped to a hospital bed, naked, alone, with a medicine that’s dissolving parts of your soul, causes sudden HP drops, and is apparently scorching your ribs. and now you want me to leave you here.”

“‘s okay. See, I‘ve got…” he gestures vaguely towards the monitor, “that thing. ‘an I had another one when I had a bath so we wouldn’t haveta drag that thing in the water an' break it, an’ it says my HP all the time so Iggy knows if it drops so she c’n gimme more.” Cash mentally notes the existence of something less cumbersome than the giant monitor that Twist is plugged into, but avoids interrupting the most useful information he’s gotten out of Twist. “She always fixes anythin’ that goes wrong. See, ’m doin’ fine.” By what definition of fine? He’s alive and speaking, but that’s about it. “I don’ mind, really. ‘s nice ta be left alone. Relaxin’.” Now that just doesn’t fit with anything he’s ever known about the other skeleton.

“twist. you love being around people. when you aren’t around people, you _find_ people to be around, even if they’re just trying to have a peaceful afternoon at home and didn’t really want someone breaking into their living room to take over their couch and make them watch tv with you. you can’t expect me to believe that you’ve suddenly started enjoying quiet solitary reflection.”

“Eh, it’s fine. ‘sa nice break.”

“a break from what?”

“Ya know, treatment stuff. Not really a nice treatment, an’ Iggy’s kinda-” his jaw slams shut.

“iggy’s kind of what?” What has she been doing?! He paid for this shit, and now she’s using it to hurt one of the few people in the whole fucking multiverse he cares about? Stop. Calm down. Twist doesn’t need this, and he hasn’t actually said anything specific, or at least not anything coherent.

“It’s fine. She don’ gotta be nice. Not her job. She’s helpin’ me an’ I don’ need her ta be nice about it.” She fucking _made_ it her job when she – Stop. First figure out what’s going on, then help Twist, then deal with Iggy. Not the other way around.

“what ‘not nice’ things has she done?” Something, _anything_, specific would be helpful.

“Look, sweetheart, I don’ even know. Most’a the time I’m so caught up in the shit in my own head that I don’ even know what’s happenin’. Fer all I know, I could jus’ be imaginin’ talkin’ ta you an’ really be ramblin’ at the ceiling. ‘s real nice ta see ya either way, though.” So Twist isn’t always aware of reality but is aware that he isn’t always aware of it. That probably means something, but Cash is no psychologist, or doctor, or whatever else Twist needs. Cash probably isn’t _anything_ that Twist needs, but he’s what they’ve got at the moment so he’ll try to do something helpful.

“twist. listen to me. i know about the lv treatment. i have a general idea of how it’s supposed to work. none of what i know explains the situation i found you in, or why no one knows you’re here, for that matter. you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothin’s goin’ on. It's jus’ the treatment. I got my LV too high so it’s harder ta make it work on me, an’ Iggy’s makin’ it work but it don’ feel good, tha’s all. Sometimes I think she’s doin’ somethin’ but then she’s not, an’ she doesn’ know if somethin’s botherin’ me cause I’m usually too fucked up ta tell her, but tha’s not her fault, s’just the shit in my own fucked up skull.”

“for someone tied to a bed who can’t tell whether i’m actually here or not, you seem to be taking the blame for a lot of things. it looks more like-” he’s interrupted by the door slamming open and a voice he’s not in the mood to hear.

“Finally! That door drives me crazy. I should have replaced it a long time ago. Now as I was saying, everything is under control and there’s no reason for you to be back here disturbing my patient-”

“Leave him alone.” Startled, Cash turns back to Twist. Gone is the confused monster smiling at seeing a friend and defending the person who’s obviously been doing _something_ to him for the past week. This is the monster who earned every bit of that 17 LV. For the first time, Cash can see a slight justification for keeping him tied up. But no, there’s a reason he’s acting like this, and Cash doubts it’s just from the LV.

Iggy, meanwhile, seems oblivious. She walks right up to both of them, fully focused on Cash. A small, sharpened bone appears at her throat, but dissolves before she notices. Twist winces, but refocuses with a shake of his head and locks his furious gaze back on Iggy. Iggy just keeps talking.

“It’s great to have such a wonderful financial supporter taking such an interest in the project, but it would really be best if you would leave the scientific work to the scientists. Just come on back to my office and I’ll explain anything you want to know, and we can let the patient rest. He’s a little confused, and having someone new around will just confuse him more.” She reaches a hand towards Cash’s arm, presumably to lead him out of the lab, but stops at his forbidding expression. 

Twist lunges at her, snarling. “Don’ touch him!” He’s stopped by the straps on his arms and collapses back on the bed, but continues to glare, good eyelight intent and magic building in the broken socket. Holy fucking stars, how does he even have the magic to attack with? He sure has the intent to put behind it. Iggy steps back, finally noticing the problem.

“C’n have me but ya can’t have him.” Magic leaks from Twist’s broken socket. Shit, he can’t just-! That half of his face crinkles up in a wince, and he makes an aborted effort to bring his hand to his face, blocked by the strap on his arm. 

“twisted, stop, you shouldn’t be using your magic-”

“What did I say about threatening me?” Iggy demands. Twist shrinks back, but continues to glare. Cash turns to Iggy, furious.

“what _did_ you say about him threatening you?”

“Oh come on, nothing that bad! Did you see what he just tried to do? Look, back before the treatment started and right after it was administered he was very aggressive. He almost killed me when I first started preparing his soul for the injection! He’s mostly behaved since then, but his self-control is terrible and I never know what’s going to set him off.” This gets a raised brow bone from Cash. 

“i’m sure he’s very dangerous.” What with being tied to the bed, still wincing from accidentally using his magic, and looking back and forth between the two of them in complete confusion as the protective anger is replaced by bewilderment.

“You should have seen what he did to my arm this morning just because I gave him a bath. Completely unprovoked, too! I’m sure some of it has to do with side effects of the treatment, but that doesn’t mean I have to just let him tear my arms apart! He’s much too aggressive, and doesn’t cooperate with anything I need to do. I’m trying to make this treatment work out but he’s doing everything he can to make my job difficult.” Twist, being difficult? Who’d have thought. But the way she’s describing it…

“did you ever make any effort to figure out _why_ he was being so ‘uncooperative’ and ‘aggressive’? he seems to think he needs to protect me from you. if you want me to believe that he’s here voluntarily, i’d think you’d have made some effort to figure out why he’s acting like he’s not.”

“Patches?” Twist sounds hesitant. Twist, one of the loudest, boldest, most impulsive, most overenthusiastic, _least_ hesitant people Cash has ever met, sounds like he’s afraid to fucking _speak_. Cash doesn’t even know what to do with that.

He makes an effort to gentle his voice. Being gentle with _Twist_, of all people. “what is it?” So he sucks at being gentle. Sue him.

“Don’ argue with her. ‘s jus’… ‘s better not to.” Do not murder the only monster who can keep Twist from losing his mind. Do not. Even if she seems to have made a damn good effort to fuck up that mind, they still need her. Focus on Twist, what Twist needs. What does Twist need? He turns to Iggy.

“you. get out.”

“What? You can’t kick me out of my own lab! You’re not-”

“out. i want to talk to twist.”

“You can talk to him with me here.”

“out.” Something in his expression must reflect how he’s feeling, because Iggy shuts her mouth and walks through the door, muttering something under her breath about the whole group of them being psychotic. Cash tunes her out.

“there, she’s gone. now what has been going on here?”

“Sure listens ta you better’n she does ta me.” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice, which Cash is relieved to hear. Twist being timid isn’t something he can deal with.

“what doesn’t she listen about?” Asking again and again isn’t the best strategy he’s ever come up with, but Twist is so disoriented that he might let a little more information slip. Assuming he even knows it.

“Lotsa things. Don’t matter, though. She’s jus’ doin’ what’s necessary, an’ I ain’t gonna complain if it gets me a cure. Don't ya see, Patches? ‘s worth it. Nothin’s so bad that it ain't worth gettin’ rid'a LV. ‘s not even that bad.”

“Which is why you’re scared of her and don’t want her anywhere near me.”

“No… jus’… I’m jus’ bein’ stupid.” He pauses to catch his breath. “Swear ‘m fine, sweetheart.” He gasps, but keeps talking like nothing happened. “Jus’ stupid shit in my head, jus’…” There are little sweat drops on his face. They’re on his ribs too, and the sickly glow in his soul and joints has intensified.

“twist? what’s going on?”

“Hot. ‘s hot,” he whimpers.

“it’s not hot in here. If anything, it’s cold, and you’re not wearing anything, which is another point against-”

Twist’s spine arches off the bed, and he screams.


	9. Chapter 9

“shit!” Cash jerks back at Twist’s sudden scream. “twist? what’s wrong?!” Twist just screams again, writhing on the bed like he’s trying to escape pain without a source. Frantically, Cash checks him, but is interrupted by Iggy racing into the room.

“Don’t worry about his stats. He’s fine. The monitor will tell us if there’s a problem.”

“he’s obviously not fine. what’s happening?” Cash snaps, keeping his focus on Twist, who hasn’t stopped screaming and is struggling to pull his arms free.

“I know it looks bad, but everything’s fine. This is a normal part of the treatment. He’s okay!”

“normal? you mean this happens all the time?! tell me right now what the fuck is happening or i swear i’ll-”

“He’s okay! This is supposed to happen! It’s just the medicine reaching an LV node. It comes and goes like this all the time. This was all in my report. I swear he’s fine!

“you have a strange definition of fine,” Cash growls. Reminding himself that Twist is more important than arguing with Iggy, he turns back towards the skeleton he won’t usually admit is his friend, but then stands awkwardly by the bed as he realizes he has no idea how to help. What can he do? What would help, and what would make it worse? He doesn’t know enough about this treatment, and Iggy doesn’t seem to care. Twist continues pulling on his restraints, his cries becoming desperate, yanking at the straps and sobbing when he can’t escape. This is what it looks like when the treatment is working the way it’s supposed to? It looks like Twist is breaking into pieces.

As Cash watches helplessly, Twist becomes more desperate, more terrified, each time he fails to move his arms, to the point that the shifts between pain and terror are visible with each attempt to escape. Finally, Cash has had enough. 

“last chance. is there a single reason, relevant to the actual treatment and not you being pissed that he’s not a passive little sweet piece, that he needs to have his arms tied down?”

“Of course there is, or I wouldn’t have done it. He keeps trying to get out of bed and falling on the floor, which is really bad for his joints, and he scratched up his chest and constantly takes out the monitor wires, which could put him in serious danger if his HP drops. I wouldn’t restrain a patient for no reason.”

“what part of that couldn’t be managed if you’d just bothered to keep someone in the room with him?”

“What do you expect, a full-time nurse? Your donations helped, but research is expensive and I’m not going to waste money on something that could be done in a more cost-effective manner.”

“so the only reason is economic?”

“Well sort of, but also basic practicality and common sense, which-”

“shut up.” There’s no reason for this. She turned this whole treatment into fucking torture for no reason at all but to save herself a little effort and a little cost. He’d have given her more money, double, triple, whatever the fuck she needed to avoid doing this to the one person he was trying to help. His working eye socket burns, but he ignores it, because Twist is still screaming, and some of that’s the treatment but some of it is from being shoved back into the same shit hole he came from because some self-righteous bitch thought she should be the one to decide what he needed and then went on a power trip. The world is shit and Cash sure isn’t making it any better, but right now Twist needs these fucking straps off his fucking arms.

Cash’s fingers shake as they work at the ties. They’re not that thick. He could probably just tear them, but that would pull on Twist’s wrists and Twist looks like he’ll come apart at the slightest pressure, physical or mental. Nothing is helped by Iggy’s angry protests.

“What are you doing?! Don’t let him loose, I just told you what he’ll do. And besides that, he’ll probably attack you. His go-to response whenever he freaks out is to dig his claws into my arm. You think you’ll do any better? I’ve been taking care of him all week and he treats me like that. You haven’t even been here. Are you even listening to me?”

Cash is not listening to her. In fact, he’s tuning her out. If he doesn’t, he’s going to attack her himself. He almost has one knot free. As it loosens, he prepares for whatever Twist might do. Whatever it is, he’ll deal with it.

Twist does grab Cash’s hand as soon as his own is free to move. For a moment it feels like he might dig in and try to break something, but then Twist’s sockets open wide and he stares at Cash. It’s easy to see the moment recognition sets in, because the claws digging into Cash’s wrist relax, though not enough to let go completely. Now it’s more like he’s clinging, holding onto Cash’s hand for some connection to the world outside of the pain. Almost instinctively, Cash shifts Twist’s grip until Twist’s hand rests in his. Twist whispers, “Thanks, Patches,” before once again being overtaken by pain, and Cash feels like he’s finally helping.

That is, until he feels Iggy’s stare on his back. At that, Cash is struck by how this must look, him gently holding Twist’s hand, letting Twist cling to him for comfort. He feels a blush rising on his cheekbones and yanks his hand away. Twist shrieks at the sudden movement and then whimpers at the loss of contact. Steadfastly ignoring Twist’s distress, Cash unties the other arm.

Twist does not reach for Cash once his other arm is freed, either to claw his arm or to hold his hand. Instead, he struggles to curl himself into a little ball, then lays shivering and whimpering in the middle of the bed. He looks helpless, and utterly miserable, and suddenly Cash doesn’t care about how it might look and takes Twist’s hand again. His glare dares Iggy to comment, but she doesn’t. There’s a strange look on her face as Twist begins to calm again, clasping Cash’s hand with both of his own and bringing it up to press against his face. Heat radiates from Twist, but Cash is not going to pull away again. They stay like that until Twist begins to quiet and still, seeming to drift to sleep. Cash hopes that means this attack is over, but then the monitor blares.

Iggy grabs something from a cabinet and pushes past Cash to get to Twist. “Get out of the way!” Twist weakly snarls as Iggy breaks his grip on Cash’s hand, then his mouth opens in a silent scream as Iggy pushes him onto his back and pulls out his soul. Cash can’t help a shudder of revulsion at the way she yanks the soul out of its place and shoves a needle into it, but he knows what this is for. Oh fuck, he knows the only thing that might be injected into a soul after the treatment starts, and that’s purified magic, which means Twist’s HP dropped dramatically, which means he could have died while Cash held his hand and didn’t do a single thing. Not only did he pay for the project to get far enough along for Twist to get involved, but he almost let Twist dust right in front of him. Why does he try to help? It only ruins everything. 

But there’s no time for self-pity, because Twist is convulsing as the new magic tries to integrate in a system that can’t even handle its own magic. The infusion is pure magic, stripped of all the identifying markers that could cause rejection in a compromised system, so he should be fine, no, he’ll definitely be fine. He’s already settling, and with the new magic he seems more alert. How completely idiotic to assume that reacting less meant that Twist was getting better. Cash is clearly not cut out for taking care of anyone. But he’s all Twist has for now, so he’ll have to be good enough.

Twist doesn’t seem to blame him. When the convulsions stop, the hand nearest to Cash continues to move, opening and closing like it’s trying to grasp something. With no hesitation this time, Cash takes Twist’s hand in his own. Iggy just shakes her head and walks off. She’s actually weirdly subdued, but Cash couldn’t begin to care less about her feelings.

After a few minutes, Twist’s sockets open again. His eye-light darts around like it’s searching for something, then stops when it finds Cash. “Patches?” His voice is barely a whisper. He probably needs water after screaming that much, and who knows what that much heat does to anything near his soul.

“iggy!” Cash yells. “bring something he can drink.” Then he returns his attention to Twist, who is still trying to talk.

“Yer still here.” Twist smiles faintly as he says it, but then he starts to cough. It’s a quiet cough, but his face is scrunched in pain and his hands clench around Cash’s. Every inhalation is a struggle, sounding like he’s breathing through a straw and frequently interrupted by coughing. He can’t possibly be getting enough air. Asphyxiation is _not_ one of the reported side effects. Is this normal for him?

“iggy!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Oh shit!” Iggy practically leaps across the room when she sees how poorly he’s breathing. “Help me move him! We need him on his back with his spine at a 45 degree angle. It’ll help him breathe better and make it easier to drink. Cold water reduces the irritation and opens the airway.”

“how were you not prepared for this?”

“I was prepared, I just didn’t have the water right by the bed because I was busy with you and then you kicked me out of my lab. He doesn’t usually get this bad, but it’s not as bad as it looks, either.” As Twist continues to gasp for air in the new, upright position, body shaking as he strains to cough, Cash doubts that. “He gets this all the time. It’s from the heat and the screaming. Water always fixes it.” He seems more likely to choke on water than drink it, but Cash has no other suggestions so he doesn’t object when Iggy shoves a straw in Twist’s mouth.

“Come on, come on, drink,” she mutters. Twist’s eye-light drifts towards her, and his mouth starts to close around the straw, but he coughs again before he can drink anything and his sockets close. “Oh no you don’t. Drink!” His sockets jerk open and his eyelight locks on her. “That’s it, stay with me. Drink. You can do it.” The tone sounds more threatening than encouraging to Cash, but either way, something must get through, because Twist manages to get a small amount of water into his mouth. For a moment it seems like they’ve made it, but then Twist gags, losing most of the water and choking on the rest, spitting out the straw. “Fuck, I knew that would find some way to come back to bite me,” she says. Is that a hint of self-recrimination in her voice? What’s that about? Something to look into when Twist can breathe.

“twist!” Twist’s eyelight darts towards Cash as he speaks. “you need to drink.” The eyelight goes out. “i need you to drink.” It doesn’t re-light, but his mouth opens, accepting the straw. At the same time, he shies away from Iggy, so Cash takes the drink from her. “let me try it. back off.”

Twist is still struggling to breathe, but he tries to keep the straw in his mouth now that Cash is holding it. Keeping his voice perfectly calm, Cash encourages him again, using the wording that helped a moment ago. “i need you to drink, twist. come on, i need you to drink.” Twist takes another drink in a break between coughs, but loses it when he coughs before he can swallow. His gaze darts to Iggy again.

“ignore her, focus on me. i need you to drink. just try again.” He takes another drink, this time managing to get some of it down. The results are immediate. After one deep, gasping breath, he sucks down the whole cup. The cough doesn’t return.

“More?” Twist rasps. He’s clearly exhausted, but his voice sounds stronger than it did before the coughing fit.

“get him more,” Cash snaps at Iggy.

“Not yet. I don’t know how well he can handle excess water. Let’s see how he does with what he’s had, first.” More arbitrary rules, or something actually important for the treatment? Twist seems better, so maybe he can afford to wait a little while for more water.

“you can have more soon. do you need anything else right now?”

“No? ‘m fine.” He doesn’t seem like he has any idea what he needs.

“are you sure? how’s your breathing? are you still in pain?”

“‘m fine. C’n I have more water? No, sorry, ya said soon, sorry.” Twist brings a hand up to rub his eye sockets, then freezes.

“twist? what’s wrong?”

“I can move. Patches, my hands are free Patches. Patches?”

“what?”

“How’d I get my hands free?”

“i untied them. there was no reason for them to be tied down in the first place.”

“But how c’n you…Patches, sweetheart?”

“what is it?”

“Think ya might be real.”

“of course i’m real.”

“I think… are you real? Cause it seems like ya might be.”

“twist. twisted, look at me. i’m real.”

“Cause if yer real an’ you let me out, tha’ makes sense. I think you’d do that. But if yer not real, she’d never’a let me out. ‘s too much trouble.”

“That’s not why!” Iggy interjects. “You know why I couldn’t let you out. You’d just hurt yourself and me.”

Twist cringes at the reminder of her presence. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll go back, didn’t mean ta get out, sorry, know ‘m s’posed ta keep those on, didn’ mean ta get out, sorry, didn’t mean ta-”

Iggy steps back with her hands raised, taken aback by his building panic. “Hey, don’t freak out. I’m not mad. It’s not your fault he let you out.”

If that was supposed to reassure Twist, it failed. “’s not his fault!” he snarls. “Don’ blame him jus’ cause I’m too fucked up ta let ya help me.” He glares at her, while she just looks baffled.

“I’m not blaming him, I’m just saying he’s barged in here and started dictating your treatment to me without any consideration for the research protocol.”

“Sorry, ‘s my fault, sorry, he jus’ don’ wanna see me hurt but I know it’s important an’ I know I’m too hard ta treat an’ yer doin’ it anyway an’ puttin’ up with me an’ thank you but he don’ know that so don’ take it out on him, please don’t, I’ll tell him ta go away an’ you can do what ya want, jus’ don’ blame him, ‘s my fault. I’ll cooperate an’ stop complainin’ so he won’ argue with ya anymore.” And now he’s panicking, and Iggy still doesn’t understand. Cash is starting to get a pretty good picture of the problem here.

“Glad to see you agree with me.” Smugly, she says to Cash, “see, he knows this treatment is too important for anyone to interfere with. Just go home and I’ll keep sending you updates.”

“or you could shut up and look at him for a second,” Cash growls. This has gone on long enough.

Iggy does, and looks taken aback by the fear on Twist’s face. “What’s wrong? Oh no, are you having a flashback?” Now she sounds sympathetic. Is that how she justifies it every time Twist doesn’t like something she does to him? Assume he’s having a flashback that has nothing to do with her? She can’t possibly be that oblivious, but she actually seems confused by his reaction. Well if she needs it spelled out…

“he thinks you’re going to punish him for breaking out. actually, he thinks you’re going to punish me for letting him out, so he’s trying to convince you it’s his fault because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot and for some reason he believes that we’re your prisoners. why do you think that is?” Cash really shouldn’t be surprised. She’s not the first royal scientist to lack even the slightest understanding of how people work. And she’s a Fellverse scientist, so she’s surely used to justifying some pretty terrible things, but this is ridiculous.

“I don’t know! It’s probably a flashback, like I said. He’s very confused and he interprets everything I do to help him in the worst possible light. I never know what’s going to set him off or how he’s going to react. Have _you_ ever tried taking care of him? He’s a very difficult patient.”

“of course he’s difficult, but that’s beside the point. and do you know who’d have a better idea of what could set him off or how he might react? his brother. or me. or several other people who would at least have some idea of where to start and who he’d trust enough to try to explain what was wrong, and who would listen when he did try to explain. do you think just because you’re a royal scientist you can do whatever you want without any consequences whatsoever?”

“Cash!” Twist hisses. “Stop arguin’ with her. ‘m tryna get you outta this an’ yer not helpin’.” There’s that protective anger again. It’s much better than the fear, but still shows a fundamental misunderstanding of the situation that it’s time to correct.

“don’t worry, i’m perfectly safe and can leave anytime i want, and so can you. this royal scientist is just having a little trouble remembering that we’re on the surface and she is expected to treat you like a patient, not a project.” At Twist’s blank look of incomprehension, he continues.

“i’m not sure that either of you remember,” he glares pointedly at iggy, “but this is supposed to be a clinical trial for a treatment to help monsters with high lv. twist, you might not know this, but iggy certainly does know that there are rules about the treatment of research subjects and protocols that exist specifically to prevent medical trials from turning into the complete shit show that this has become. iggy, you know that. i haven’t been involved until now because frankly, i don’t give a shit what you do in your day-to-day work as long as you’re making progress, but when i come in here and find the monster who’s the whole reason i’m paying for this fucking project being treated like shit and losing his fucking mind, you can bet your ass i’m getting involved.”

They both stare at him in stunned silence. Twist is the first to speak, with dawning wonder. “Yer payin’ fer the project? Yer… yer payin’ ta get rid’a my LV? Darlin’… I can’t even…” He chokes on the words.

“yeah, and it’s worked out great for you, hasn’t it.” Everything he does, every fucking thing he does to try to help turns to shit, and now Twist knows that it’s all his fault, and how is he ever going to fix this? Twist is so fucked up now, and there’s no way to go back and undo it, and there’s so far to go before there’s even a chance of making any real difference, and why did he ever think he could fix this? He can’t fix anything that matters, just throws money at it and hopes all his problems go away, what a-

“Thank you.” What? Twist can’t be thanking him. After everything that’s happened? “Patches, Cash, thank you so much. I can’t even believe… can’t believe anyone’d… an’ I know I’m annoyin’ an’ I do stupid shit all the time an’ I drive ya crazy an ‘s all my own fault anyway an’ yer… yer payin’ fer this an’… thank you, darlin’.” Twist’s voice is shaky. It could be something with the treatment, but it looks more like he’d be crying if his LV would let him. Great. He’s made Twist want to cry. Fucking noble self-sacrificing idiot who pretends like he’s fine when he’s getting ready to die, who won’t leave Cash to rot in his own misery, who acts like Cash is worth something but can’t see why Cash would pay to save him because he only sees the good in worthless pieces of shit like Cash but sees himself as nothing but a stupid gutter rat, and now Cash’s eyes are burning again and he will not cry here because Iggy’s staring at them both in incomprehension and he’s not going to explain so he has to get himself under control.

“mind your own fucking business,” he snaps at her, then turns back to Twist before seeing her reaction. “of course i’d pay to get rid of your lv. did you think i’d just let you lose your mind and die?”

“I… I dunno. Didn’ think… sweetheart, I don’t… Sorry. Don’ think I c’n really… ‘m kinda…” he rubs at his sockets, “‘m not really up ta havin’ this conversation right now. Sorry, ‘s just… ‘m tryin’, but…”

“it’s alright, we’ll talk later. right now we need to figure out how to fix this treatment.”

“Fix it? Is it broken?” He seems confused, like he can’t quite get his mind around it, but also worried.

“the treatment is fine. it’s just the way it’s being applied that isn’t working.”

“I’m open to suggestions.” Both of their gazes dart to Iggy. “I know it’s turned into kind of a mess. Look, Twist, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you.” She shrinks back a little under Cash’s glare, but continues. “I really am. I’m not saying I’ve done it perfectly. I don’t know enough about you, Twist, and I’ve gotten a little frustrated at times,” Cash suspects it’s been quite a bit more than that, but this is better than complete denial, “but I really am here to help you. So what do you need?”

“Told ya before, an’ ya didn’ listen.” Twist speaks hesitantly, but it’s probably a good sign that he’s arguing at all.

“Well I’m listening now. It’s hard to tell how important something is when you complain the same way about things you don’t like and things that completely freak you out.” Twist looks away, but Cash isn’t putting up with that shit.

“twist doesn’t complain. he’s more likely to smile through something he hates to avoid upsetting someone than he is to complain about some minor annoyance.” What horrifying things have been dismissed as ‘complaining’ while Twist has been here? Cash shudders to think of it.

“Well how was I supposed to know that? I don’t know him.”

“that’s right, you don’t, which is why you should have talked to someone who does, and for that matter, you should have had someone who knows him here the whole time. if you had, i doubt he’d be in this condition and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“That’s completely against protocol and completely impractical.”

“then your protocol is unethical and illegal. surface law requires informed consent for all experimentation on sapient subjects, which can be withdrawn at any time, which means that when a procedure is likely to make a subject incapable of continuing to provide informed consent, the subject, not the researcher, should be allowed to designate someone who can continue to ensure their wishes are respected. you, meanwhile, are simultaneously acting as a researcher and a medical practitioner, which means you are obligated to consistently provide the highest possible standard of care for your patient, which again involves respecting the patient’s choices or the choices of someone given power of attorney by the patient or designated with that power by a legal entity. have you done any of that?”

“Look, I get what you’re saying, and I'm impressed that you've actually looked into all of that. It’s just not practical here. Those without a biological and medical background don’t tend to understand the necessity of some of the less pleasant aspects of my work or the inevitability of certain consequences, so they’ll just end up interfering and negatively impacting the outcome.”

“then do you at least consult with someone who does have a biological and medical background?”

“Sometimes, but everyone is very busy with their own projects, and we can’t be bothering each other all the time with every little detail of our own work.” Twist’s sanity is not a little detail! Calm, stay calm. Focus on what Twist needs now, not what could have prevented this whole disaster in the first place, because nothing can be done about that now. She said she’s open to suggestions. Figure out what needs to happen now and make it happen. Remember, Twist still needs her.

“i’m extremely concerned about leaving twist in your care with that attitude, especially given everything that’s happened. i know the treatment can’t be stopped,” he glances at Twist, who is frantically shaking his head, “and twist doesn’t want it to stop. I also know no one else is qualified to provide it. what i need to determine is how to make sure twist can continue to receive the treatment without leaving you in complete control over his life.”

“Cash?”

“what, twist?”

“Don’ make her stop. ‘s worth it. I swear it’s worth it. I don’ care what happens, I need it. Please don’t make her stop.”

“she’s not going to stop the treatment. she can’t, and i wouldn’t let her if she could. she’s just not allowed to hurt you more than necessary while you get it.”

“Don’t care if she hurts me. I need it, sweetheart. I need it so much, an’ I wanna live, an’ I wanna keep my mind, and that’s worth anythin’ that happens, long as it jus’ happens ta me. Please don’ make it stop.”

“just…” Hand rubbing his eyes as he sighs, Cash turns to Iggy again. “how much of what’s happening is actually for his benefit?”

“All of it!” At his look, she relents. “Well, okay, some of it only benefits him indirectly by improving my understanding of the treatment and helping get it approved for mass production, but he knows that and he wants to participate.”

“what, specifically, does he need in order to successfully complete the treatment, and what is for the research?”

“I don’t see why you really need to know that. You seem to be implying that I should stop doing anything that’s ‘just’ for research, which would invalidate the whole point of the project. He’s not the only monster with LV problems, you know.”

“i’m not telling you to abandon the research. i’m telling you to fix what’s wrong with your methods before i pull all your funding and let someone else take over the project.”

“You can’t do that. They wouldn’t know what they were doing. They’d completely mess it up.”

“then i’ll turn you into the sovereigns or the surface police, whoever will be more efficient in making you turn over the details of your work, so they can learn how to do it correctly. do you think there’s a shortage of scientists willing to take over a project of this significance and get all the credit after you’ve done most of the work? i’m giving you one chance to stay in control of this project. you’d better take it.”

“They’d screw it up! You can’t imagine the complexity involved in getting this treatment to work correctly at this stage. You can’t just hand it over to someone who wasn’t involved from the beginning. There’s as much of an art to it as a science, and you can’t just teach someone how to do that. Maybe when it’s further along, but it’s not there yet. Forget who gets the credit; taking me off this project could jeopardize the whole thing!”

“then work with me so that doesn’t have to happen. i’m not going to tolerate how you’ve treated twist, whether you meant to or not, and i don’t think you understand enough of what went wrong to prevent it from happening again. at this point, i don’t think he should even stay here.”

“I wanna stay!” Twist interjects. “Sweetheart, please, I gotta stay. I can’t lose this cure. She c’n do what she wants, I don’ care. I jus’ can’t leave. Don’ make her stop. Please, darlin. I can’t do it no more. ‘m not gonna make it. This’s the only chance I’ve got. Please.” What he’d give to never hear Twist beg again… He hates this project.

“twist. listen to me. i will not, under any circumstances, take away your cure. do you understand?” Twist nods. “this is important, so tell me what you understand. what did i just say to you?”

“I un’erstand yer not gonna take away my LV cure. But darlin, ya keep sayin’ that, and then ya tell her ta stop it an’ say yer gonna take me away from here. Maybe I’m jus’ not thinkin’ too clearly, ‘cause I know I ain't, but that don’t make no sense. How’s she s’posed ta treat me if she’s not allowed ta do anythin’ ta me?”

“Seriously, how _am_ I supposed to treat him if you’re opposed to every single thing I do to him?” Will she just butt out for a minute? He’s talking to Twist.

“i don’t have a problem with everything you do. i’m perfectly aware that this treatment is difficult and that some suffering is unavoidable, especially given how high his lv is. what isn’t acceptable is everything that could have been avoided if you’d just paid attention to your patient or skipped all of this unnecessary secrecy. that goes for both of you, actually. twist, you can’t possibly have thought anyone would have kept you away from a cure for lv. we might have suggested a little more caution, and your brother might have needed some convincing, but we all know it’s a problem and no one would have kept you away from a solution.”

“What if I didn’t have time ta convince anyone?”

“what do you mean?”

“Look, ‘s too hard ta argue ‘bout right now. This whole… talkin’s hard. ‘m tryin’, ‘cause I know it’s important, but ‘s too hard. ‘n thinkin’… ‘m tryin’, but I can’t… ‘s just… you always think ‘m fine. All ‘a ya do. an’ ‘m not. Try ta be, ‘cause ya don’ need ta worry ‘bout me, an’ I’m not gonna waste time worryin’ ‘bout things I can’t change, but ‘m not fine, an’… ‘s too hard ta argue, sweetheart. Please? ‘m tired, an’ I can’t think.” He does look exhausted, and Cash is surprised he’s staying with the conversation as well as he is, given his level of confusion when Cash first arrived.

“fine, i’lll drop it for now. let’s move this conversation along so you can get some sleep. iggy, explain what you’re doing to twist and why in a way that we’ll both understand. you’ve obviously already given him the injection, and it hasn’t finished working, so what are you doing in the meantime?”

“Mostly basic maintenance work, you know, monitoring his stats, keeping his HP up, managing the side effects, keeping him from hurting himself, that kind of thing. And analyzing the stats readings from the monitor.”

“why do you need a monitor to track his stats? why can’t you just check him?”

“I’m not talking about the stats that you can see through a simple check. Those don’t actually correlate with the treatment’s progression, other than LV, obviously, which can affect the others, but those are all indirect effects that you won’t see until a dose is finished. I’m talking about a different level of stats, which exist primarily at more of a quantum mechanical level. Getting a reading on them is very complicated, but this machine can do it.” She pats the large machine that is the origin of the wires in Twist’s soul.

“why do you need to track those quantum mechanical stats?”

“To confirm that the progression of this level of treatment follows the same pattern as lower levels. It’ll make a stronger case for the review board that we can safely generalize from one high LV trial.”

“do you need that data or does it just help make a stronger case?”

“I guess I don’t technically _need_ it. This dose of the treatment will follow its set progression until it’s finished, whether I know what it’s doing or not, and anything dangerous that might happen on that level can be seen through an HP change before it can do any real harm. Tracking the early stages was essential for comparison purposes, but now that it’s established I could probably get away with weekly data sampling. This dose is obviously going to take a while, so even that would give me decent data, especially if I can track future doses too.”

“so is there any reason he even needs to stay here? all of the ‘maintenance’ you described could be done at home better than you’re doing it here, and we have plenty of people who could teleport him back here once a week.”

“But what about his HP? I’m not just tracking that for the research; that could actually kill him.”

“why couldn’t that be tracked through a simple check?”

“Because how confident are you that whoever’s with him will always think to check him at the right time, especially when they’re distracted by the other effects of a node dissolving? You saw how fast his HP dropped earlier, and it doesn’t always even seem like anything is wrong. You have to have some kind of alarm set to go off at certain thresholds. That’s the main purpose of always having the monitor wires in.”

“so he can’t be taken off this monitor without risking a fatal hp loss? that could be a problem. it doesn’t seem to be transportable, and I assume that it’s custom made and not something that could be ordered from somewhere?”

“Right, I made it myself, and between the size and the delicacy of some of the components, there’s no way it’s leaving this lab.” Well now Cash is stuck. Leaving Twist here is absolutely destroying his mental health, but there’s no point in any of it if he dusts from HP loss as soon as he’s home. That only leaves keeping someone here with him, which is better than leaving him here alone but still gives Iggy way too much power over his daily life, which she’s shown she can’t handle. The last person he expects to solve the problem is Twist.

“But you c’n track my HP without this thing, can’t ya? I remember, you used somethin’ that ya stuck in my soul fer the bath.” Why did that produce a full-body shiver? He’s got to get Twist out of here. “An’ it couldn’t do much but it could tell ya if my HP dropped.” Iggy did mention something about a portable monitor, didn’t she? So much has happened since then that Cash forgot.

“Well, yes, that one’s portable, but it’s not all that accurate. It’s really basic. All it can do is set off an alarm if your HP approaches the threshold I set, but it can’t even tell if you’re actually at the threshold. It doesn’t provide one bit of useful data. Don’t you want something more accurate?”

“does he need something more accurate? if we want to know his exact hp, we can just check him. the point of the monitor would be to let us know if there’s a problem, not provide accurate data. or is that your real objection, that you were hoping to keep him here despite everything i just said because you want better data than you’ll get from him at home?”

“No! I just want what’s best for him and for all the other monsters who will benefit from this treatment. Look, data aside, since you obviously don’t care about how difficult it is to balance conflicting expectations from a review board, it’s harder than you think to take care of him. You need to know how to provide magic infusions, and what to feed him, and how to protect his joints, and all sorts of things. And he’s being pretty cooperative for you right now, but I guarantee it won’t continue. Even if he likes you, he doesn’t have a consistent awareness of reality, which causes him to do things that make him a lot harder to take care of. I know you want to be nice to your friend, but he’s given me reason to do everything I’ve done, and if you’re not willing to do that, you’re going to have a lot of trouble with him.”

“i’ll take my chances. what do i need to know?”

“Fine, but don’t come complain to me when it happens exactly like I told you. Okay, well, the most important thing to know is how and when to give the magic infusions. You saw me give one earlier, so the how is pretty straightforward. You just need to keep the calcification off of his soul so there’s a clear path for the injection. I always keep it completely clear to give me plenty of surface to work with and because it delays the re-hardening of the surface, but you can do whatever you want as long as there’s always clear access for a needle. The small monitor Twist was talking about is already set to a safe threshold, so just give him a dose anytime it goes off. His magical system is severely disrupted so it has trouble integrating foreign magic, so even though these infusions are about as pure as they can get they still put a lot of strain on the system, so try to keep his HP high enough with food that he won’t need them often.”

“i know about the magic disruption. you explained it in your earlier reports when you discussed side effects. is it the same for twist as for the earlier subjects?”

“Yes, but to a greater degree, just like with everything else because his LV is so high. It’s nothing remotely approaching the level of disruption that can contribute to melting, but it does affect every aspect of daily life. You’ve seen the confusion, weakness, and the overly active magic in his joints. Watch out for those. Also watch how he’s eating. I have a mixture that contains all of the nutrients he needs and is easy to digest. I’ll give you some if you insist on taking all of this on outside of my supervision. He can’t eat anything that’s even remotely difficult to digest, including solids and mixed textures, again because of the magic disruption, so just stick to these to be safe. He doesn’t like them, but he can eat them. Other than that, keep him in bed, although good luck doing that if you refuse to restrain him.”

“got it. just give me the supplies and he’ll be fine.”

“The infusions can be kept at room temperature, but don’t leave them in the light for longer than necessary. It degrades their purity so they’ll be harder to absorb.”

“got it. anything else i need to know?”

“Only that this is a very stupid thing to do and is completely against medical advice.”

Cash snorts derisively. “i’ll keep that in mind. are you going to put in the new monitor?”

“Yes, just give me a minute.” She pulls Twist’s soul from his ribcage with the same lack of care that she showed earlier. Twist flinches, but otherwise does not react. That’s just not right. A monster should be horrified to have his soul treated that way, but Twist acts like it’s normal. Again, Cash has to press down the seething rage building inside him. Twist is almost out of this lab. But what damage has already been done?

Twist winces when Iggy pulls out the wires and sticks in the needle of a small device that rests on the surface of his soul, but still does not react in any other way. How can he hold still through that? It should be instinctive to defend his soul from an untrusted person who just wants to touch it, let alone someone sticking needles into it. Something is wrong with him. Cash already knows something is wrong with Twist, but watching him passively let his soul be manipulated and damaged is just driving it home. Twist isn’t broken. Cash has seen enough will and personality show through since he got here that he’s certain of that. But he’s not okay either. At the very least, he’s hurt, afraid, and very confused, and he needs to get out of here. Cash probably can’t do anything about those first three things, but he can at least get Twist home.

As passive as Twist seemed while Iggy switched the monitors, his body must have held some tension because Cash can see it release as soon as his soul is back in place. With the release of tension, Twist loses the last of his energy, too. Eye-light flickering and sockets blinking to stay open, he gazes at Cash for answers or permission to rest or something that Cash doesn’t know.

“go to sleep, twisted. it’s alright. you’ll be home when you wake up.” And Iggy can go fuck herself if she’s going to judge him for sounding like he’s talking to a babybones. After everything she’s put Twist through, she doesn’t get a say in the matter.

But again, she doesn’t say anything, or even look like she is judging him. He can’t actually tell what that expression she’s wearing is, especially when Twist reaches for his hand again and relaxes into sleep as soon as he lets him take it. Never mind, she can deal with her own problems. His only goal is to get Twist home.

“where are those supplies?”

“I’ll have them in just a second.” She quickly collects some packets from her office and a container of glowing, capped glass syringes from a cabinet, then puts them in a bag that Cash drapes over his shoulder. “This should be more than enough to get you through the week. If you need more, or if there’s a problem, I’m sure you have my contact information.”

“i do.” Not that he’s eager to use it. What if she uses it as an excuse to justify keeping Twist in the lab for the rest of the treatment time? Of course, that’s still better than dead.

“Look, I know we haven’t exactly had the best first meeting, but we both want this treatment to work so we need to work together to make that happen. You may not like my methods, but please believe that my only goal is to help Twist and all of the other monsters with too much LV get better and live long, happy, sane lives. I’m from the same universe as he is. Do you think I don’t have people I care about who have the same problem? I’m not doing this for the fame and fortune. I want to help people. Don’t mess up his chance for a cure just because you’re having trouble seeing that.”

“i see exactly what you’re doing. i’m sure you have people you care about, and then i’m sure there are people like him, who you’d like to help but who are still just a means to an end for you.”

“He’s not just a means to an end! Maybe back in Twistfell I’d have thought like that, but things are different here on the surface. We can afford to care about more than just a few specific people. You’re obviously from a Fellverse too, so you must have experienced the same thing. Why can’t I care about reaching my goals, helping the people I care about, and helping my patients at the same time?”

“because you don’t appear to be doing that. look, i’ve never claimed to be looking out for anyone’s best interest, but if you’re going to claim that you are, you might want to give some thought as to why you’re still treating the people you claim you’re helping like tools you can use to reach your goals.”

“I’m not! I’ve done everything possible to help every one of them. I can’t make everything easy, and when this project started, I couldn’t guarantee good results, but the progress I’ve made is a testament to how much I care about helping my patients, and I don’t see why you insist on continuously questioning that.”

“because the condition twist is in and what i’ve learned about what’s been happening here shows that you don’t care enough about your patients, who you usually refer to as research subjects, not patients, to put any effort into figuring out what they need or how your actions might affect them. you might mean well, you might not. i don’t really care. what i care about is whether you can be relied on to do what twist needs now that you’re no longer the one deciding what that is.”

“Of course I can. I wouldn’t abandon a patient just because someone comes into my lab to threaten me over him and tries to tell me how to do my job.”

“that’s all i needed to know. we’ll contact you if we need anything. if not, i’ll bring twist here in a week so you can record his other stats. unless there’s anything else, we’re leaving now.”

“Be careful how you move him. Since he’s asleep, he won’t be able to tell you if you’re putting too much strain on his joints.”

“he probably wouldn’t tell me anyway. if you’ve been relying on him to tell you when something’s wrong, it’s no wonder you’ve missed so many problems. we’re leaving now.” Wedging his arms under Twist’s knees and upper spine, Cash lifts Twist out of the bed. The position is somewhat awkward, given Twist’s height, but it only needs to last for a moment as Cash teleports them home.


	10. Chapter 10

Cash teleports Twist and himself directly into Twist’s room. As much as he doesn’t want to deal with Blackberry, Twist needs to be home in his own bed. Fumbling to pull the blankets back while holding on to Twist, he finally gives up and lays the taller skeleton on top of the bedspread. He’d probably get too hot under there anyway.

Twist looks terribly exposed lying naked on top of the covers. Not that Twist is against being naked, but he’s so vulnerable right now that it seems wrong to leave him like that. Well, one advantage of being in his bedroom is easy access to his clothes. A shirt seems too risky with the possible need for quick access to his soul, but he can at least have some pants. Digging through a drawer, Cash finds a pair of loose-fitting, light-weight running shorts. Those should be fine.

Dressing Twist is awkward. Cash briefly considers waiting until Blackberry shows up so he can deal with it, but discards that idea when the unconscious skeleton starts to shiver. Apparently, he can get cold when he’s not in the middle of an attack, despite the fever. Twist doesn’t react when Cash threads both feet through the openings in the shorts, or as he gradually works them up his unresponsive legs. Cash briefly hesitates when he reaches Twist’s pelvis, then shakes his head at his own hesitation. Twist isn’t even awake to see how awkward this is. Steeling himself against his own discomfort, Cash grips the waistline of the shorts in one hand and lifts Twist’s pelvis with the other.

Twist wakes with a gasp and jerks away from Cash’s hold. Startled, Cash grabs the nearest thing in reach, which is Twist’s sacrum, shit, that’s not what he meant to do, and Twist freezes. Fuck, could this get any more awkward? Cash’s cheekbones burn in embarrassment. He can’t meet Twist’s eyes as he pulls his hand out from underneath him and scrambles off the bed. What is he, twelve? Twist is lying there with pants halfway on, and Cash is embarrassed because he touched his naughty parts? Grow up and get back to work. Twist won’t care. He’ll probably make some ridiculous innuendo and turn the whole thing into a joke, and then they can move on and pretend this never happened.

Except Twist’s reaction isn’t embarrassment or amusement. It’s terror. He hasn’t moved from the position Cash left him in and his eyes stare hollowly over Cash’s shoulder. He whines lowly as Cash reaches to finish pulling up his pants, breaths coming quick and shallow, hands clenching but not moving from their place at his sides. Shit, what is it now?

“twist? what’s wrong?” Twist doesn’t seem to hear him.

“twisted. hey, answer me. what’s wrong?” Twist opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words escape, just that long, low whine and shallow breaths that can’t be taking in enough air. What’s happening? Is this another attack? Twist doesn’t seem to be in pain, at least not like the other attack Cash witnessed, but what does Cash know about it? Maybe there are different types, or maybe he reacts differently based on… whatever he’s reacting to?

“tell me what’s wrong so i can help you. what do you need?” This does get a response, if not a particularly helpful one.

“Need? Need, I, I need, don’, don’t need nothin’… what… whatever ya want… I’ll, please, I c’n…”

“you’re not making any sense. what do you need?” It comes out sharper than Cash intended, but he might be panicking a little here. What’s happening to Twist?

“Need… I… sorry, I can’t, dunno… don’ think I can…” clenching his sockets closed, Twist turns away from Cash, then gasps and looks right at him. “Sorry, dunno, can’t, P-Cash? Why’re ya…?” Now he looks… betrayed? What’s Cash done to put that look on his face?

“twist, listen. i don’t know what’s wrong or why you’re upset. tell me what’s wrong so i can fix it.”

“Sorry, tell ya, ya wan’ me ta tell ya, dunno… No! I’ll figure it out, swear I will, jus’ don’t…”

“just don’t what? what do you think i’m doing? all i’m trying to do is help you put your pants on, but you obviously think there’s something else going on, so tell me what you think is happening.”

“Whatever you want? No, that’s… tha’s different, yer not… Sorry, I c’n do it, just tell me what ya want an’ I c’n do it, I c’n cooperate an’… what’d’ya want? What’s happenin’, ya asked wha’s happenin’, uh, whatever ya say, no, tha’s, that’s different, that’s her, an’ not her but I thought it was but it’s a different her and yer not her but she wasn’t either an’ I didn’t think you’d… but ‘s okay, I can, don’ know why but I owe ya-” What the fuck? ‘I owe ya’? Twist owes him _what_? He’s _not_ implying what Cash thinks he’s implying, except Cash has a sinking feeling that that’s exactly what he’s implying. “- an’ I… I’ll do it I swear but last time I couldn’t cause somethin’s wrong with me, but jus’ tell me what ya want an’ I’ll make it work and I’ll-” His pitch rises until he runs out of breath, and then he can’t replace the air because he’s nearly hyperventilating, and this has to stop right now.

“twist! stop. i want you to calm down. that’s all i want. work on breathing, don’t worry about anything else.” Twist whimpers, but takes slightly deeper breaths. “i’m not going to touch you or come near you until you want me to.” His breathing speeds up again. “and you don’t have to want me to! if you want me to stay over here all day, i will. i’m not going to leave the room because i don’t think i should leave you alone, but i’m not going to touch you in any way that you don’t want me to, and the only people i’m mad at are the ones who made you think differently.”

“Not gonna… but don’tcha…?”

“i accidentally touched your pelvis while i helped you get dressed. that’s all. i’m guessing it triggered some bad memories, and believe me someone is going to pay if there’s a reason, other than the treatment screwing with your mind, that those memories are so close to the surface. is there a reason?” Iggy did say he was easily triggered. Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe it's none of his business, but if she used the project he funded to do anything to make Twist like this…

“Um… I dunno? Yer not…?” Twist’s teeth are lightly chattering. Actually, all of his bones are starting to rattle. Some kind of delayed shock? A reaction to the cold? Both? Either way, it’s probably not good for him.

“no, i’m not. and i never will. now if you don’t want me to help with your pants and you can’t get them on yourself, at least let me put a blanket over you.” Twist nods. “where should i take one from?”

“Closet in the hallway,” he answers with a vague gesture towards the door, then freezes.

“what is it?” What new horror is about to present itself? Cash isn’t sure he can take much more.

“Patches? Um, yer Patches, right? An’ yer real?” Memory problems? Manageable. And difficulty recognizing reality? At least he’s aware enough to ask, this time.

“yes, i’m real, and i’m ‘patches’.” Of all the things he never thought he’d call himself, but Twist seems fixated on that nickname.

“Then, um, where are we?”

“in your house, your room to be more specific. don’t you recognize it? 

“But where’s Muffet? Or, no, she wouldn’t be here, ain’t seen her in a long time and she ain’t in the lab, an’ you don’ work fer her, but where’s Iggy? You work fer, no _she _works fer _you_, an’ she had me, I know she did. Didja tell her ta…” His expression darkens. “Why… I didn’t mean ta… why’d’ya…? I thought… I know I like ta bug ya, but ‘s all in good fun, I thought? So why…? Sorry. C’n do what ya want, ‘s my fault an’ I won’t argue, ‘s just… why?”

“twist. shut up and listen. iggy doesn’t work for me, and i didn’t tell her to do anything to you. i paid for her research so she could get rid of your lv, but you weren’t supposed to be involved until it was finished and there was a completely safe, completely reliable cure. she got you involved without telling anyone, and no one gave her permission to treat you like she did. as soon as i found out what was happening, i got you out of there and brought you home. you’re not in the lab or with muffet. you’re home in your own bed, and that’s where you’re going to stay.”

Twist blinks, then looks around the room again and then down at the bed he’s lying on. “Well woulja lookit that?” he asks with dawning wonder. “I am.” He smiles. “And ya really… none of it? Ya didn’t tell her ta… jus’ the LV? Told her ta fix it an’ took me home?” The grin that crosses his face is nearly blinding. Then, to Cash’s surprise, he beckons Cash closer and brushes his cheek.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Is _Cash_ okay? Why wouldn’t Cash be okay? It’s Twist who – oh. He blinks at the purple magic on Twist’s fingers, then reaches up to brush at his own socket. Yep, tears, fantastic.

“What’sa matter?” Where to even begin? He wants to deny his reaction, but what’s he going to do, tell Twist it’s just dust in his eye? Either he won’t believe him, or he will, which will just confuse him more…

“C’mere, darlin.” And before Cash knows it, he’s being pulled in for a hug. His first instinct is to pull away, but after all that about not touching Twist, he doesn’t want to make any wrong moves. And then Twist’s arms are around him, and there’s nothing to do but lie on top of him awkwardly or reciprocate, and he’s already decided not to pull away, so he carefully brings his arms around Twist’s shoulders in the closest approximation of a hug they can get in that position. Twist rubs his back.

“It’s alright, darlin’. Everythin’ll be fine.” The tightness in his throat is just from the weird position, and absolutely nothing else.

“i’m the one who’s supposed to be telling you that, asshole.”

“‘s okay. I’m sure you’ll get plenty'a chances.” Unfortunately, he’s probably right, and today has shown just how bad Cash is at it. He’s not the person who should be taking care of Twist. Apparently Twist thinks _he_ needs to take care of Cash. He should get up, figure out what to do next, find out where Blackberry is so he can hand Twist over to someone who might actually know what he’s doing. But Twist is clinging to him as much as he’s providing comfort, and he gets the feeling that this is the most helpful thing he’s done all day. 

“Patches?” Twist whispers.

“yeah?”

“Am I really home?”

“yeah.”

“And I c’n still have the LV cure even though I left?”

“yes.”

“Thank you.” And that’s apparently all that needs to be said, because the arms around Cash relax as Twist drifts off to sleep. 

Cash again considers getting up to look for Blackberry. He really should. Staying here until Blackberry comes home to find Twist in this condition and Cash lying on top of him is a terrible idea. The worst possible idea. Shuddering, he pulls away from Twist, but clasps his hand when he whimpers at the loss of contact. As far as Cash is concerned, being found holding Twist’s hand isn’t much of an improvement over lying on top of him while he sleeps, but it’ll at least be easier to cover up if someone comes in.

As much as Twist seems content to nap with his pants halfway down his legs, he really needs to finish getting dressed. Being naked would even be better than his current state. Determined to avoid repeating the horrible misunderstanding from earlier, Cash gently shakes Twist’s shoulder to wake him.

“twist. hey, twisted, wake up.” Twist murmurs something incomprehensible, but doesn’t open his eyes. “twist! i need to finish getting those pants on you. or i could take them off if you don’t want me touching you, but they can’t stay where they are. wake up and tell me what you want.”

Twist’s good socket flutters open. “Mmmmm, Patches. Patches? What?” He slowly blinks awake.

“don’t worry about it. just tell me whether you want your pants on or off. right now, they’re halfway up your legs. i don’t think you can move them yourself, but feel free to try it if you want to.”

“Nah, you do it.” Becoming slightly more coherent, Twist frowns down at his legs.

“do you want them on or off?”

“On? Probly should wear pants.” He frowns at his legs some more, then grins up at Cash. “Or maybe not. Never thought I’d be naked in bed with ya, darlin’. Maybe I should make it last a little longer.” 

There’s the Twist he knows and tolerates. Cash looks away rather than return his grin, but one creeps onto his face regardless. “don’t push your luck.” But even if he seems better, Cash can’t forget his earlier reaction. “i’m going to have to touch you to finish pulling those on.”

“‘s fine. Expectin’ it, now.”

“are you sure?”

“Nah, never sure ‘bout anythin’ no more. But I’m sure enough. Not gonna lay around with pants halfway up my legs jus’ ta avoid a little scare. Let’s get this over with so I c’n get back ta sleep. ‘m real tired, darlin’.” Maybe Cash shouldn’t have woken him up. He needs sleep, and he doesn’t seem to care much about the pants. Maybe he should just get a blanket and leave Twist alone. Who knows how he’ll set him off next? That seems to be all he’s done today.

“Hey, stop that. I see ya worryin’, and there’s no reason fer that. Just help me get my clothes on right an’ it’ll all be fine.” If only that could be true. Still, Twist has a point. Cash starts to reach for the pants, then hesitates.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“nothing.”

“Don’t seem like nothin’. Worryin’ ‘bout earlier? I’m probly not gonna do that again, an’ if I do, don’ worry ‘bout it. ‘s nothing new an’ I always come out the other side just fine.”

“you aren’t fine.”

“Close enough. Look, I got bigger problems than puttin’ on some pants. If I can’t deal with this, ‘m fucked fer the rest of it, so I’m just gonna haveta live with it. Now how much longer are ya gonna keep me awake?”

“as long as it takes to cover that naked ass you like showing to the world.”

Twist bursts out laughing. “Oh, darlin’, that’s great!” It wasn’t _that_ funny. “I can always count on you ta-” he’s overtaken by laughter again.

“are you high?”

“Nah. Might as well be, but it’d be a little hard ta get any’a the good stuff at the moment.” He chuckles. “Seriously, though, help me out here while I‘m in a good mood, ‘less ya _like_ watchin’ me lay here buck naked. Or if ya do, go ahead an’ take those all the way off. Nobody looks his best with his shorts ‘round his knees.” He cracks up again at his own joke. Cash can’t help but smile, as much as he probably shouldn’t encourage the idiot.

“in your dreams.” He shakes his head. “sure you’re not going to freak out again? i’ll be careful, but i don’t know what might set you off.”

“I dunno either, sweetheart. I’ll try’n tell ya if somethin’ seems likely, but I’m really not good at it.” Not like anyone seems to have listened when he tried, but Cash smashes down the anger at that because somehow Twist is happy right now and he’s not going to screw that up.

“i’ll pay attention.” He says it flatly, but it’s a promise.

“‘m sure ya will. Yer like that, even when ya try ta pretend like yer not.” What’s that supposed to mean? Damn perceptive fucker, always smashing right through Cash’s walls with a grin like it’s the clearest thing in the world that Cash is worth pulling out from behind them.

“what’s got you in such a good mood now, anyway?”

“Why wouldn’ I be? I’m home, everythin’s working as well as it can be, and I’m ‘bout ta get some pants. What’ve I got ta complain about?” Plenty, but that’s Twist for you, like the motherfucker doesn’t even know when he’s supposed to be bitter and mad at the world.

“seems like there’re a few things you could complain about.”

“Sure could, but why bother? I’m sure I’ll be plenty upset about ‘em later, but why waste time worryin’ ‘bout ‘em now? Only problem I’ve got at the moment is the pants situation. Think ya might get ‘round ta doin’ somethin’ ‘bout that sometime soon?”

“yeah, yeah, i’ll pull up your pants, fucker.” He flicks Twist off, and Twist grins, and for a moment it’s the most normal thing in the world, even if he is about to help a grown skeleton pull up his pants.

Still, he’s hesitant, not wanting a repeat of Twist’s earlier reaction. Slowly, he reaches for the waistband, gaze darting back and forth between his hands and Twist’s expression. Twist smiles encouragingly, because of course he’s encouraging Cash when he’s the one who could flip into a flashback at any second. Steeling himself, he edges the shorts up Twist’s legs. Twist tries to help by raising his hips, but immediately falls back to the bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Yer on yer own.” Great. Now he has to do the same thing that set Twist off in the first place. Ready to pull back at the slightest sign of distress, he wedges one hand underneath Twist’s pelvis.

Twist stills and Cash freezes as Twist’s eye socket goes dark, but with a shake of his head Twist pulls himself back to the present. “I’m fine, sweetheart.” He’s a little shaky, but not freaking out, thank the stars. “Thanks fer waitin’. Yer the best.” Waiting a few seconds to avoid pushing Twist into a flashback should not be enough to qualify Cash as ‘the best’, but it’s not the time to argue. Lifting Twist’s pelvis off the bed, Cash works the pants up over his hips, then gently lowers him back to the bed. Twist’s breathing is harsh, but not frantic.

“See, ‘m fine.” Twist swallows. “Not a big deal.”

“you sure? you don’t seem fine.”

“Fine ‘s I c’n be. Ain’t too bad. Hurts more’n anythin' else, an’ tha’s no big deal long’s I remember why it’s happenin’.” What? He didn’t even say it was hurting him! Cash never would’ve done that if he’d known it would hurt him! He could’ve just used a blanket and forgotten the whole pants thing.

“idiot. tell me next time and we’ll do something different.” How is Cash supposed to take care of someone who just goes along with whatever he says and won’t tell him that it hurts to put on pants?

“It don’t matter. Wasn’t a big deal. Movin’ always hurts ‘cause my magic’s so fucked up, but ‘m not gonna lay here stiff as a board jus’ ta avoid a little pain. I wanted my pants on, an’ now they’re on, an’ I remember where I am an’ ev’rthing. That’s a success, far as I’m concerned.”

“you’re telling me you don’t care at all that something as basic as putting on pants hurts you?”

“Nah, I‘m used ta it. Pain’s just… somethin’ I gotta get through right now. So ‘re the memories, fer that matter. Might fuck me up at the time, but I know why I’m doin’ this, darlin', and it’s worth it. An’ now yer here, an’ I’m home, an’ I even have pants that’re where they’re s’posed ta be.” He grins. “Was gettin’ a little cold down there, if ya know what I mean.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

“Yep. Love you too, Patches.”

“go to sleep.”

“Probly should. Barely keepin’ my eyes open as it is. Hate ta see what a few more minutes’d do.”

“do you need anything? a blanket?”

“That’d be nice. The pants’re great, but it’s kinda chilly in here. Know where ta find one? I know I’m lyin’ on top’ve a bunch’ve ‘em, but it seems like a lotta work ta get under the covers.”

“i remember where they are. i lived here not that long ago, remember?”

“Yeah. Was fun, havin’ you around.”

“sure it was. i’ll be right back.”

It doesn’t take more than a minute to return with a blanket from the hall closet, but Twist is already asleep by the time he gets back. Lightly laying the blanket over the top of the sleeping skeleton, Cash contemplates what he should do. He really should call Blackberry. He’s obviously not in the house or he’d have come up to check on the commotion from Twist’s room by now. He might even be out looking for Twist after Cash’s earlier call. He really should get ahold of him. Blackberry will take over helping Twist, and Cash can get out of the way and leave the job to people who know what they’re doing. Not that anyone knows much about this treatment, but Blackberry is at least better than Cash at the whole taking care of people thing. That’s really what he should do. But watching Twist sleep peacefully is relaxing, soothing after a terrible afternoon, and he doesn’t really want to leave.

Maybe he can wait just a little while to call. It will be easier to explain in person anyway, and Blackberry will surely be home soon.


	11. Chapter 11

_Fur under his hands, squeezing until it crumbles to dust, dust in his mouth, in the breaks in his bones, mixing with blood and marrow, kneeling in front of her underneath her, just obey always obey can’t get out can’t get away Sans is gone broke his promise gone gone everything is gone everything is DUST_

Twist blinks awake. He looks around, recognizing his bedroom. It doesn’t match what he thought was happening. Must have been a dream. He hasn’t had a dream like that in a while.

Both hands come up to rub at his eyes. He pauses. Turns his hands back and forth, inspecting his wrists. Something is weird. What’s wrong with them? They look normal. Nothing strange about them, nothing on them. Why is it so weird that there’s nothing on them? Nothing should be on them. No one’s going to tie him up in his own bedroom. He doesn’t do that. Would never do that. She’d… but she’s gone. Isn’t she? But it seems like she’s not. It can’t be her, not here in his own home. He wouldn’t let her, would never let her so close to Sans now that he has a choice. Blackberry. Sans is Blackberry now because they’re on the surface.

Right, the surface. And he’s here because…? Well it’s his room, obviously. But what’s going on? Why does it seem weird to be in his room and why does he think his wrists should be tied down? He shudders. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a situation where anyone could tie him down. He could take anyone who tried and no one’s got anything to hold over him now. Do they? There’s something floating in the back of his mind, a yellow monster in a lab coat, and she can do whatever she wants to him because he couldn’t fight her if he tried, but he wouldn’t try even if he could because… because why?

He tries to sit up. Shit, bad idea, worst idea ever. He curls into a ball and breathes through the pain, every joint on fire, magic scraping like glass shards between the bones. What is this? What’s wrong with him? Wait, this is familiar.

He’s woken up like this before. Everything hurt and he didn’t know what happened, but that time he was in… a lab? Yeah, that’s it, a lab, because… can’t think. Everything is foggy, like his thoughts are the mud those glass shards are flowing through. That’s a weird metaphor. Doesn’t really work. They’re not his strong suit.

So, a lab. Why was he in a lab, and why is he not there now? Something happened in a lab <strike>screaming choking can’t get away can’t move give it back don’t touch it don’t know what she _wants_</strike>, apparently something bad, and now he’s home with no clue how he got to either place or what’s wrong with him.

What’s the last thing he remembers? Other than that jumbled up shit, because it’s not telling him anything. Where was he before that? Work, maybe? Yeah, that sounds right. Those memories are clearer. He went to work, started back on an engine he hadn’t finished the day before. Then a customer came storming into the garage screaming about not getting something he wanted and how if he’d known they had those disgusting abominations working there he’d have taken his business elsewhere. Then he’s screaming in Twist’s face and then Twist’s fist is through a wall that was almost the human’s head. Then police are there and everyone in the place vouches for Twist and how the human started it and no one got hurt, and oh stars he loves these guys, they’re just the best, and it doesn’t hurt that the human’s still screaming racist bullshit, so the police escort the human out and leave Twist alone with a warning. No one says a word when he just needs to stand alone in a quiet room for a while before getting back to work, and soon he’s laughing and joking with the rest of them like nothing ever happened, but it just adds to the pile of proof in his head that he’s going to snap one day and do something he can’t come back from.

Then Iggy comes in to talk to him, and she doesn’t need car help, she has… holy shit she had a cure for LV, and she offered it to him, and he took it, of course, and now everything is going to change. So that’s why he was in a lab and why he feels like shit. That’s fine, then. Who gives a shit that he can’t get up and his memory is shot? He’s going to… he’ll be able to… The possibilities spiral out in front of him, more than his mind can process, so he doesn’t try. He just drifts from one idea to another, smiling as each fleeting thought passes by, following one into an impossibly distant future before losing track and drifting into another. Who would have thought there’d ever be a point in thinking that far ahead? Certainly not him, but now he is, and it’s the best thing he can imagine. Still no clue how he got here, but he couldn’t begin to care.

***

Cursing, Cash slams shut yet another useless kitchen drawer. There has to be a takeout cup with a lid and a straw somewhere in this house. Every house has at least one. Except Blackberry does most of his own cooking and Twist would rather eat a bag of carrots than get fast food, health freak that he is, always working out and – Cash slaps his forehead. Water bottles. There’s a whole cabinet of water bottles, which he knows because he lived here not that long ago, but he was so busy rushing around trying not to leave Twist alone for too long that he didn’t even think about it. That’s what rushing gets you, stupid mistakes and a lot of wasted energy. Pulling open the correct cabinet, he finds one that should be fairly easy to drink from without letting all the water spill out. Then he fills it and heads back up to Twist’s room, dreading what he might find after being gone for so long.

Did Twist have another attack? Is he caught in a flashback that he needs help getting out of? Did he try to look for Cash and fall out of bed? Opening the door, _which he did not mean to close_,_ fuck, what if Twist needed help and he couldn’t hear him,_ he enters and approaches the bed with dread.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry. Twist is in bed where he should be, grinning at the ceiling, happily mumbling to himself. He notices when Cash steps into the room, and then Cash is the recipient of that out-of-place grin.

“Patches! Hey, Patches, d’ya know what’s wrong with me?” So many things, starting with his current mood.

“you’re weirdly happy to be asking that question.”

“I know! But do ya?”

“where would i even start? but if you mean what’s specifically wrong with you right now-”

“My LV is meltin’!” That’s one way to put it.

“well yeah, kind of, but there’s more-”

“Don’t really remember that much about it, but I know it’s meltin’, and it’s fuckin’ awful, but it’s meltin’, darlin’, and I was thinkin’, what’d I want ta do, ya know? Like I had all these ideas but maybe I wasn’ thinkin’ ‘bout them the right way, like I was just makin’ a longer list of things, but it’s not jus’ things, sweetheart, it’s _time_. And you c’n _do_ things with time, ‘specially on the surface, an’ I never really thought about it before ‘cause I knew I didn’t have any, but now I do an’ what ‘m I gonna do with it?”

Ok, so that could explain the good mood. “whatever you want. you have to get through this first, though.”

“Yeah, that part sucks. But hey, sweetheart, did ya know my LV is meltin’?”

“that’s not exactly what’s-”

“An’ now I’m home fer some reason, which is really nice ‘cause that lab was terrible, an’ I’m not totally sure how I got here but yer here an’ yer smarter ‘n me so if you think it’s fine then it probly is. Is it fine?”

“that you’re home? yeah. i brought you here.”

“You did? Thanks, sweetheart. This place is a lot more comfy than the other place, which makes sense ‘cause labs ain’t s’posed ta be comfy, not that ‘m gonna complain ‘cause my LV’s meltin’ an’ I’ll take what I can get long as that keeps workin’, but it‘s a lot nicer ta be in my own bed if I’m gonna be screamin’ an’ tryna rip my soul out all day fer however long,” well there go any theories that he’s in a good mood because he forgot what’s happening, “and it’s nice ta have you here too even though I probly shouldn’ta said that ‘cause now yer gonna get all embarrassed an’ grumpy,” What’s that supposed to mean? He doesn’t do that! “but ‘m real tired an’ it’s hard ta keep track of what I should say to ya, darlin’. Don’ get me wrong, I don’t mind it most a’ the time ‘cause I like bein’ yer friend, but you c’n see I can’t even keep up with what I’m saying right now an’ I can’t remember what I was first talkin’ ‘bout so ‘m just gonna shut up now.” Well that was… something. Cash scowls, and chooses to ignore it.

“i brought you some water.”

“Thanks! Yer the best, sweetheart. I was gettin’ real thirsty.” Twist fumbles with the water bottle when it’s handed to him, so Cash helps him hold it. To watch Twist savor it, you’d think it was a high-quality wine, or whatever the Twist equivalent of that would be. Probably cheap whiskey.

“Mmmm, that’s good stuff. Best I’ve tasted.”

“it’s just water.”

“Never doubt the value of a good glass a’ water. ‘s turned inta my favorite drink, lately.”

“sounds like it’s the only thing you can drink.”

“That and nasty smoothies, but ya won’t see me enjoyin’ those much. Gotta eat, though, an’ I don’t think I need a stomachache on top of everythin’ else from eatin’ the wrong food. Haven’t had a great time with people screwin’ with the recipe, either.”

“speaking of food, are you hungry? it’s probably getting close to dinner time.”

“Guess I could eat if I had ta. Know how ta make those awful things?”

“i have the ingredients and the instructions from iggy. it’s just measuring out some powders and mixing them with water.”

“Hard ta mess that up then. Let’s get it over with.”

Cash hates to leave Twist alone, but makes sure to measure everything carefully, having no idea what’s essential and what’s just a suggestion. He’s just stirring the unappealing sludge together when a crash comes from upstairs.

“shit, what is it now?” He teleports to Twist’s room. Twist is curled up on the floor when Cash arrives, teeth gritted in pain, but grins sheepishly when he sees Cash.

“Heya Patches.”

“why are you on the floor?”

“Tried ta get up. Didn’t work out too great.”

“you couldn’t even hold a cup a few minutes ago. why did you think you could get out of bed?”

“Mighta fergot ‘bout that. Jus’ thought I’d save ya all the trips back ‘n forth if i could get ta the livin’ room.”

“idiot. i can get here just as easily as there. you can barely move.”

“Probly didn’t think that one through as much as I shoulda. Think ‘m still a little scrambled.”

“a little. how did you even get this far? you were in the middle of the bed.”

“Not sure. Think it was a lotta work, which shoulda been a clue that it was a bad idea from the start, but it just… made sense at the time? Much ‘s anythin’ does with my head like this.” Tying him to the bed is starting to make a little more sense, except _no_, because Cash saw how badly that fucked him up, even if he doesn’t know the details of why. But he can see why someone would consider it. He was only gone for a minute, maybe two.

Cash sighs. “just try to stay in bed.” Not that it’s likely. Twist isn’t one for staying in one place or for making sensible decisions, and the treatment isn’t helping.

“Sure thing, darlin’. Mind helpin’ me get back up there? That’d be a good start.” Well that sure sounds promising. At least he’s not upset about it? Cash isn’t sure he’s up to dealing with another flashback, panic attack, or whatever that was earlier.

“fine. that’s a bad position for picking you up. can you roll over?”

Twist tries to roll onto his back, but winces and stops. “Maybe if ya help me, but not on my own. I hit the floor pretty hard. Don’t think it’s good fer my joints. They’re all throwin’ a fit about it.”

“which is why you should stay in bed.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. No fallin’ outta bed, no movin’ around, just stay bundled up safe in bed an’ let ya bring me stuff. Sounds nicer than it really is.” He braces himself when Cash kneels next to him to turn him over. Moving him produces a wince, but doesn’t stop the cheerful chatter.

“Never been carried this much in my life. ‘s weird.”

“you’re always happy to pick other people up and put them where you want them.” Even Cash, sometimes, and somehow the bastard has kept all his limbs intact while doing it.

“Yeah, turnabout’s fair play an’ all that, I guess.” He chuckles as Cash tries to find a good way to pick him up. It would be a whole lot easier if he was a foot or two shorter.

“can you hold up your arms so they don’t get caught underneath you on the bed?” They obviously survived a collision with the floor, but they still look pretty fragile. All of Twist looks fragile. It’s very disturbing, especially since he insists on ignoring that fact when he wants to do something like, say, fling himself to the floor.

“Maybe? ‘s hard ta say how I’m gonna feel minute ta minute. Sometimes I can’t lift a finger an’ sometimes I think I can get outta bed, so I’m not the best judge.”

Cash snorts. “i’ll try to keep them up out of the way.” With even more awkward positioning. It would be great if Twist would just stay in bed from now on. Getting him back in is a lot of work.

After folding Twist’s arms on his chest and instructing him to keep them there, Cash puts his arms under Twist’s spine and legs and presses Twist’s ribcage against his own to help hold his arms in place. Off balance, he stumbles a little on the way up, then freezes at Twist’s sharp inhalation.

“twist? what’s wrong?”

Twist’s response is a long, low whine. That’s not a good sound. Cash lays him down and backs away.

“twist? 

“Sorry.”

“it’s fine. what happened?”

“Sorry, sorry boss. Won’ do it again.”

“won’t do… why are you calling me boss?”

“Want me ta call ya somethin’ else? Sorry boss, er not boss, sorry, what’d’ya want? I c’n… please! No, sorry, that’s not, didn’t mean ta, ‘m not arguin’ jus’, I can’t, sorry, sorry, I… sorry, I dunno, can’t, sorry, please I can’t-”

“stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong. you can’t what?”

“I can’t I can’t please don’t, sorry ‘m not arguin’ I _know_ an’ you c’n do what ya want not gonna stop ya I _know_, not tryin’ so ya don’t gotta, sorry boss no that’s dunno what ya want, please just-”

“twist! calm down and listen. i don’t know what’s wrong. you need to tell me so i can fix it.”

“I know what I am! But I can’t, jus’ can’t taday, dunno what’s wrong but please don’, ‘s too much an’ I can’t, sorry sorry sorry sorry I can, I’ll, whatever ya want jus’ tell me-”

“i don’t know how to help you. slow down and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Know I fucked up, I know, swear I’ll do better please it’s too much I can’t boss ‘s too much I _can’t_!” The last word is a shriek, and then Twist is sobbing, except he can’t cry so it’s mostly just gasps with the most devastated expression Cash has ever seen on his face. Cash doesn’t know what to do. Twist is breaking apart in front of him and he’s completely useless. Nothing he says is getting through and Twist won’t or can’t tell him what’s wrong. He’s not sure they’re even having the same conversation. Actually, of course they aren’t. Cash is an idiot. This is obviously a flashback or hallucination or something.

Not that knowing that helps. How do you help someone who probably can’t see or hear you? Cash doesn’t know, because he has no clue what he’s doing and he’s completely useless for this job. Whatever he does will probably just make it worse. But what’s he going to do, leave Twist crying on the floor? Sit here and stare at him? 

Maybe he should at least get Twist back in the bed. He tries to pick him up, but Twist screams when he touches him and his sobbing intensifies, so he pulls back and doesn’t touch him again. What else can he do? So far he’s only made things worse. He’s not cut out for this.

“twist?” He gets no reaction whatsoever.

“twisted? can you hear me? it’s cash.” Why is he even trying? Twist can’t hear him.

Dejected, he mutters, “i’m here when you’re ready," and then sits silently beside Twist. The sobbing continues for what feels like hours but probably isn’t more than a few minutes. Slowly, it begins to trail off, until Twist is staring blankly at the ceiling. Cash decides to try again.

“twist? twisted, hey, look at me. can you hear me?” He almost puts a hand on Twist’s shoulder but thinks better of it. He’s not going to be what sets Twist off again. He’s not. <strike>how can he avoid it without knowing what set him off in the first place?</strike> He’ll figure it out.

“twist. papyrus!” That gets a blink. That’s probably good?

“papyrus.” Twist’s head turns towards him. That has to be good, right?

“papyrus, can you hear me?”

“I…” Twist swallows. “Boss? No, yer not… who?” His voice is shaky, but has lost that desperate, terrified quality from earlier.

“cash. i’m cash, not boss. what boss are you talking about?”

Twist's brow bones furrow. “Y’know, her. I work fer her. Don’t you?”

“i don’t work for anyone, and you don’t work for anyone who should cause that kind of reaction.”

“But, Muffet, she… or a different one? But I know you, so don’tcha…?”

“you do know me, and there aren’t any muffets here. do you know how you know me?”

“I think… Dunno. Ya don’ work fer muffet?”

“no, and neither do you.”

“I don’t? But… oh! I know you! Yer Cash! An’ I know you on the surface. We’re on the surface!”

“we are. did you forget?”

“Yeah, but I remember now. But why’m I…?”

“do you remember the lv treatment?”

“The what? Oh, wait, yeah. Yeah, I remember. I remember! Sweetheart, can you believe it? There’s a cure for LV! And we’re on the surface so I don’t need it no more, an’ I c’n get rid of it! I… wait. Why’m I on the floor?”

“because you tried to get out of bed to ‘help’ me when you weren’t even remotely physically capable of doing that.” 

Twist nods. “Seems like somethin’ I’d do. Yeah, I think I did that. Oh, actually, think I remember doin’ that. An’ you were tryna get me back in bed, an’ then I was…” He shudders. “Musta lost my shit, huh?”

“that’s one way to put it.”

“So here I am, still on the floor. Mind helpin’ me get back in bed? Don’ think I can do it myself. Think I c’n keep it together this time.” And now he’s smiling. Smiling, like he thinks it’s funny. It’s like he wasn’t just reliving some hell that had him crying on the floor a few minutes ago. Again, what’s wrong with this crazy fucker? Is he constitutionally incapable of getting pissed off when life screws him over? No, he’s fully capable of being pissed, but mostly he just acts like everything’s great. Why?! Cash doesn’t get it.

“sure. is there anything i should avoid doing so that doesn’t happen again?”

“Nah, think ‘m good now. Jus’ got some wires crossed that I don’ think were crossed before. Stupid shit I been doing since the treatment started, not a big deal.” Cash isn’t convinced, but short of making Twist camp out on the floor for the rest of the treatment, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

This time he’s very careful when he lifts Twist, paying his good mood no mind. Clearly that means nothing when it comes to those flashbacks. Twist doesn’t lose touch with reality, but he does whimper and curl tightly around Cash as Cash lifts him.

“what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“there’s obviously something. how am i supposed to help you if you don’t tell me when you have a problem?”

“Think most’a my problems ‘re pretty obvious. This’s just… I jus’ fucked up my joints when I fell outta bed. No big deal, jus’ don’ like movin’.” Which sounds reasonable, except Twist is clinging to him and pressing his face into Cash’s shirt, and it doesn’t seem like ‘no big deal.’ It seems like Twist downplaying what’s wrong with him is going to be an ongoing problem, and Cash doesn’t know what to do about it.

Twist won’t let go when Cash tries to lay him on the bed, almost causing Cash to fall over on top of him as he overbalances. Reeling from the thought of the damage that could have done, Cash snaps at Twist. “what is it now?” Twist lets go instantly and cringes away.

“Sorry, I didn’t… Didn’t mean ta cause ya trouble, won’ do it again, sorry.” Well now Cash feels like shit.

“it’s fine. you didn’t mean to. i’m not mad at you.” Twist doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t protest. Fantastic, now Twist is scared of him. He’s just great at this. Why hasn’t he called Blackberry, again? He really should, before he stomps all over what little sanity Twist has left.

“do you want your blanket?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be real nice, darlin’. Got kinda cold down there.”

“do you want more blankets, then?”

“Don’ think so. Don’ think I could get out from under ‘em, so it’d be kinda like I was trapped, an’ I don’t think I’m up ta dealin’ with that right now.”

“ok.” Also, since when has Twist been so willing to admit when something bothers him? He must be really messed up. It’s more helpful than downplaying problems like he did earlier, but isn’t typical Twist behavior. As much as it seems like he has no filter, there are some things he definitely keeps to himself.

“Hey Patches?”

“yeah?”

“Did ya ever finish makin’ dinner?”

“huh?” Since when does Cash cook, and why would he be cooking today?

“Y’know, that nasty smoothie you were makin’ me.” He’s completely forgotten. That seems like hours ago.

“do you want it now?”

“Nah, never gonna _want_ that shit, but I’m gettin’ pretty hungry. ‘Sides, ‘m not s’posed ta let my HP drop, so I gotta keep eatin’.”

“oh, right. i’ll go get it.” he teleports to the kitchen, finishes stirring the mixture, pours it into a water bottle with a thick straw, and returns to Twist’s room.

Twist is staring at the ceiling, eyelight unlit when Cash returns to the room, but he relights it and smiles when he sees Cash, so Cash doesn’t mention it. It’s just another sign that Twist is not alright that Cash can’t do anything about. Twist reaches for the water bottle so Cash hands it over, staying close because he fully expects that he’ll end up holding it. As it turns out, though, his help isn’t needed.

“Well wouldja lookit that? I can hold it myself this time.” This accomplishment is apparently enough to counter the taste of the drink, because Twist drinks it without complaint. 

“Hey Patches?” Twist says as he hands over the empty water bottle.

“what?”

“‘m glad yer here.”

“what? why?”

“Cause it’s nice ta have ya here, an’ ‘cause right now I c’n say things like that without you teleportin’ us both across town an’ leavin’ me on the roof of a ten story buildin’ with no stairwell.”

“sure it is, and don’t push your luck.” How did he get stuck with the most ridiculous Papyrus in all of the multiverse, and why does he keep the idiot around?

“Seriously, though, ‘m glad yer here, an’ thanks fer bringin’ me home.”

“i wasn’t going to just leave you there.” Not after seeing what it was like, and not after the whole thing was his fault in the first place because he paid for the project without keeping track of what Iggy was doing except to make sure she was getting results.

“‘s not just that though. Yer better at this. Yer really helpin’ me.”

“didn’t sound like I was helping you earlier.”

“Nah, you were great, it jus’ hurt cause I hit the floor too hard, an’ then some random thing set off some shit in my skull. But it was better. Yer jus’ better at not… I dunno what’s diff’rent. Ya just… ‘s easier ta stay here when you do things, or ta come back. Ya take things easier an’ ya stop when ya think somethin’ might be wrong, an’ ya can’t catch everythin’ that way but it helps.”

“i didn’t help much. you couldn’t even hear me until you started to come out of it on your own.”

“Yeah, but then I did hear ya. Know what I’m used ta hearin’ when I come outta one a’ those? Nothin’, or machines beepin’, or some fucked up shit from the parts a’ my skull that weren’t ever s’posed ta see the light a day again. You think ya didn’t help? If I was still in the lab I’d still be tryna figure out if anythin’ that happened since whatever I was rememberin’ is even real, an’ probly be pretty convinced that it ain’t. This treatment thing’s fucked me up. I ain't complainin’ ‘cause I still say it’s worth it, but I didn’ think it’d be easy goin’ in and there’s nothin’ you c’n do ta make it easy now. What yer doin’s more’n I ever expected.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” Not like he ever would have expected himself to be taking care of Twist, or anyone for that matter, but it’s still a little off-putting for Twist to say it.

“I didn’t mean it like that, darlin’. Meant it more ‘bout the treatment in general. When I was in that lab, I thought that was how it had ta be. Don’ get me wrong, it was still worth it, but I didn’t know how I was gonna get through this round, let alone all the rest. Then you come stormin’ ta the rescue an’ ‘fore I know it I’m home in my own bed an’ thinkin’ maybe I c’n actually get through this. An’ I know my head’s completely fucked an’ so’s my magic, an’ I don’ know if I’d normally say any’a this, but I jus’ ain’t got the energy ta care right now so I’m sayin’ it anyway.”

Again, Twist has left Cash speechless, so he lines up some pillows and blankets along the edge of the bed in hopes of keeping Twist in place and teleports back to the kitchen to rinse out the water bottle. Twist abandoning any effort at filtering anything he says is an unanticipated problem of staying with him. With that on top of Cash’s complete inability to be any kind of help, he really hopes Blackberry comes home soon. He’s just not equipped for this level of responsibility for someone’s wellbeing.


	12. Chapter 12

Either the pillow wall works or Twist remembers that moving is a bad idea, because he actually manages to stay in bed this time, to Cash’s relief. He smiles when Cash enters the room but doesn’t say anything, also to Cash’s relief. Twist is reasonably content and not saying ridiculous things that hit Cash in all the wrong places, so everything is as good as it’s probably going to get.

“the kitchen’s cleaned up and i got you some more water.” The dirty water bottle is in the dishwasher, at least. Cash isn't a maid. He hands the refilled bottle to Twist, who again smiles at being able to hold it himself.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He takes a sip. “D’licious as always. Could sell this stuff.”

“not that i’m opposed to taking advantage of the gullibility of the general public, but i think it would take more marketing than either of us want to deal with to convince anyone to buy the water from your kitchen sink.”

“I dunno ‘bout that. I’ve got a great sales pitch; ‘Guaranteed ta make ya feel like yer soul’s not meltin’ fer at least 15 seconds after ya drink it!’ Sales’ll go through the roof!”

“i suspect it needs some work before it’ll appeal to a general audience.”

“Yer probly right. Might only int’rest a specific type of clientele.” He finishes the bottle, so Cash teleports to the kitchen to get more. He’s not going to be caught unprepared with something as easy to keep on hand as water, especially with this new revelation that Twist’s soul apparently always feels like it’s melting and water makes it go away for a few seconds. It’d have been nice to know about that earlier, but far be it from Twist to ask for something he needs.

Twist accepts the fresh water gratefully, but doesn’t drink much, so maybe he’s feeling better now. “Whatcha rushin’ around so much for, anyway? That’s not like ya.”

“have to make sure i’m here to rescue your stupid ass the next time you decide to fling yourself to the floor instead of staying in bed and going to sleep like a normal person.”

“Aww, sweetheart, if I’da known you were so attached ta my ass I’da taken better care of it.”

“it’s not so much that i’m attached to it as that i’m tired of picking it up off the floor.”

“Oh come on, it was only one time! And it’s a great ass! You should be honored ta be the one ta pick it up!” This is ridiculous, but Twist is grinning, and not that vague, confused smile from earlier either.

“anything to do with your ass is an ‘honor’ i could do without. how about you keep it in bed until you can pick it up yourself?”

“But darlin’, that’d-” the breath catches in his throat as his body goes rigid. His face tightens and his eyelight rolls up into his skull as a strangled whine escapes.

“what’s wrong? twist? fuck.” Another attack? They’re probably lucky to have made it this long without one. But then all the tension leaves Twist’s body. “twist?” Twist blinks.

“Wha?”

“what happened? is it over?”

“I… I don’…”

“what was that?” Surely it wasn’t an attack. Nodes don’t dissolve that fast. Do they?

“Dunno… it… I – hnnn!” His back arches and his face twists in agony. Then he collapses again, panting.

“what’s happening? i haven’t seen this before. has it happened before?”

“Dunno… felt… it felt like when… like a node thing, but FUCK!” His claws dig into the blanket underneath him, then relax again. “I think this’s new. Wish it’d stop.” Head dropping limply to the side, he lays panting for a few moments while Cash watches in concern. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about. If it lasted even a little longer, he’d say it was definitely a node. Iggy reported a wide range of variation in node dissolution time. Maybe even a couple of seconds is normal, what does he know? And she clearly never bothered to inform Twist about what to expect, so it’s not surprising that he wouldn’t know either. But three times in a row? That’s not in any report he’s read.

Twist screams, then whines again, hands curling up against his ribs. Ok, this is definitely not normal. He’s almost sure of it. Except how can he be sure about anything? For all that he’s studied the reports and Twist’s personal experience with it, they know next to nothing about this treatment. They need more information.

Twist starts babbling as he comes out of that attack.“Patches, uh, sweetheart, uh, I think… somethin’s wrong. I don’ think this’s normal. ‘s all kinda a blur, and it’s hard ta tell when one thing stops an’ another starts. But I think it’s s’posed ta last longer ‘n that an’ I don’ think it starts again so fast. But maybe not? I… I don’-” Then the pain comes again. Then it leaves. Then again, and again, as they soon lose count. It’s not a completely regular pattern. Sometimes there are only seconds between bursts of pain, sometimes nearly a minute, but they never stop.

Not knowing when the next one will start is almost as bad as the pain itself. During the first of the longer pauses they both start to relax, thinking it might be over, before a wave of pain hits hard enough to briefly knock Twist unconscious until the next wave drags him back to awareness. Now he’s constantly tense, curled up in anticipation of the next wave even when they pause long enough for him to speak somewhat normally. Neither of them knows what to do.

“Dunno what’s happenin’. I don’… is sumthin’ wrong?” How’s Cash supposed to know? Everything’s wrong, but is this more wrong than normal?

“do you remember anything at all like this happening, or iggy mentioning anything? anything at all?”

“Dunno. Don’ think it’s done this before, don’t know hhhhhhg,” scrabbling at his ribs, one hand finds its way into his ribcage and gropes blindly for his soul. Cash grabs the hand before it does any damage, and Twist clings to him until the pain recedes.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Hate ta think what it’d do if I got ahold of my soul like that. ‘s just what I need _shit_,” his hand clamps down on Cash’s, claws digging into the joints. Cash yelps but he won’t pull away because he decided back in the lab that he won’t do that to Twist again and he still won’t. And what if Twist goes for his soul again? He’d shred it if he held it like he’s holding Cash’s hand, so Cash can’t pull away, but if it doesn’t stop soon Cash might end up with a few fewer fingers.

Twist’s eyes blink open then dart to where he’s crushing Cash’s hand, which he drops like a hot iron. “Sorry,” he moans, “so sorry darlin, didn’t mean ta, didn’ even realize.”

“it’s fine. i’m more concerned about you. what can i do to help you?”

“Dunno. Can’t… jus’ don’ touch me cause I can’t…” Is that because he doesn’t want to be touched or because he’s afraid of hurting Cash? And what’s happening? He’s only seen one example of a node dissolving. Is this normal or has something gone wrong? Should he call Iggy? Just hours after telling her off and taking Twist away to take care of him himself?

Twist’s back arches and he digs his claws into the mattress. He falls back to the bed and pants in exhaustion, then tenses again and bangs his skull against the pillow hard enough that the bedframe shakes. Cash grabs his skull to stop him, but lets go when he moans and pulls away.

“stop that. you don’t need brain damage on top of everything else.” The head banging doesn’t return, but Twist stays tense enough to be painful as they wait for the next attack.

“Please don’ touch me. Don’ wanna hurt ya, sweetheart.”

“i’m not the one getting hurt here. just let me help you.”

“How? C’n ya make it stop?” Why does he have to sound so hopeful? Of course Cash can’t make it stop! Cash can’t do anything, and why did he ever think he could help with this? He doesn’t know anything about this treatment, and even if he gets all of Iggy’s reports, how does he know any of it applies in Twist’s case? Fucking idiot, signing himself up for a treatment that’s only been tested on monsters with half his LV. If Cash had to start caring about someone, why couldn’t it have been someone with a halfway-decent sense of self-preservation? And why can’t Twist have someone to look after him who has half a clue what he’s doing? Instead all he has is Cash.

Twist screams again, and then he’s reaching for his soul again, and there’s no way Cash is letting him do himself irreversible damage just because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot who thinks Cash is too fragile to hold his hand. He grabs the hand that’s trying to grab Twist’s soul and grits his teeth at the claws that inevitably find his joints, wiping the expression from his face when Twist’s eyes open so the idiot doesn’t decide he’s breaking Cash’s hand or something.

“So sorry, darlin’. Just please don’ touch me. Please? Don’ know what’s happenin’ an’ I don’ wanna hurt ya.”

“i’m not letting you hurt yourself. the worst you’ve done is scratch me. i think you’re pretty harmless at the moment.”

“But what if ’m not? This thing keeps lettin’ me get better in between so I’m stronger than ‘m s’posed ta be, an’ I keep fergettin’ that I gotta stay in control now, so I dunno what I could do when I dunno what I’m doin’.”

“what do you mean, you have to stay in control now? 

“Haven’t had ta worry ‘bout it since the medicine fucked me up too bad ta hurt anyone, but when it started I was a mess. ‘s part’a why Iggy had ta tie me up. Every time I got free, I did somethin’ bad, even though she was jus’ tryna help me. Didn’t mean ta, but I kept doin’ it anyway, an’ I don’ wanna hurt ya, sweetheart.

“are you saying you want to be tied up again?”

“No! Or, or if this keeps goin’, maybe?” He shudders, but presses on. “It fucks with my head, darlin’, it really… ghhhhhhhh, shit… really, really fucks with my head, and I shouldn’t be able ta move by now, but I still can, so I don’ know what I’ll do, an’ the whole point was so I don’ hurt anyone but now I’m so fucked up I might anyway an’ I can’t-”

“are you trying to hurt me?”

“No! Sweetheart, no, I’m tryin’ not ta but I ferget an’-”

“then stop worrying about it. i’m not going to dust from a few accidental scratches. you _will_ dust if you crush your own soul. i don’t know what’s happening to you, but you hurting me is the least of my concerns.”

“Ya don’t know that, darlin’. What if I ferget who ya are? I do that sometimes, an’ what if mmmmm…” he trails off in a moan and tries to pull his hand away from Cash. Tries and fails, of course, because he’s weak as a babybones and about as much of a threat as one, too, whatever he might think.

Cash holds onto Twist through several more short attacks, eventually holding onto both hands as Twist seems determined to get to his soul. The first time Twist regains awareness with both hands restrained, he panics, so Cash lets go. After that, Cash makes sure to keep away from his wrists and Twist stays calm. Having solved the immediate problem of keeping Twist from hurting himself, Cash turns his attention to the bigger problem of what’s happening to Twist. Unfortunately, he’s no closer to an answer, and a glance at the clock shows it’s been going on for nearly half an hour with no sign of ending. What would a sign even be? He doesn’t know enough about this, but he _so_ doesn’t want to consult with Iggy.

Twist looks and sounds completely fried. He never relaxes for fear of the next attack, which come at random intervals and with random intensities. He’s stopped telling Cash not to touch him, and just looks guiltily at any new scratches that appear on his hands. Mostly, though, he stares at the ceiling. He’s done that far too much since this treatment started.

“Wish it’d stop.” That’s an understatement if Cash has ever heard one. He’s rarely felt more helpless.

“maybe i should call iggy.” He hates to even suggest it, especially when the breath catches in Twist’s ribcage and his socket widens in fear, but what if something is really wrong and he doesn’t know how to recognize it, or what if there’s something he should be doing, or-

“Ok.” Shit, Twist sounds so resigned. Why won’t he argue when he doesn’t like something? Is he resigned because he doesn’t want to see Iggy but agrees they need her help, or because he doesn’t want anything to do with her but doesn’t think Cash will listen to him any better than she did?

“i don’t trust her, but she knows more about this treatment than either of us, and this can’t continue.” Twist’s face falls, and he looks away with an expression of… guilt? Wait, why’s he guilty?

“Ok. Sorry.”

“what are you sorry for? you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sorry ya went ta so much trouble ta get me outta there an’ it didn’t work.”

“it didn’t work? seems to me like it worked just fine, considering that this is your bedroom and not a lab.” He’s got to get better at interpreting Twist’s disconnected statements. There’s always something he needs to know in there, but it’s hard to find.

“Yeah but now ya gotta take me back.”

“what!?”

“Sorry, I know ‘m too hard ta take care of, I don’ blame ya an’ it was real nice ta be away from there fer awhile, but I already hurt ya an’ yer too nice ta tie me up an’ my self-control is shit an’ I’m too much trouble ta take care of and now there’s this new thing goin’ on an’ I don’ know what it is either so I know ya gotta take me back an’-”

“shut the fuck up. i’m not taking you back there. after everything she did, you think i’m going to just leave you there again? what kind of an asshole do you think i am?” Twist is stunned into silence.

“she did a terrible job of taking care of you. it was her job and she didn’t even try, and don’t give me that bullshit about it being your fault or it being worth it to get rid of your lv. she should have done better and there’s no excuse, and i will never leave you back in that lab. if i had a problem with anything you’ve done, i’d have said so. do i look like a pushover to you?”

Wide-eyed, Twist whispers, “no, but sweetheart…”

“but what?”

Twist briefly whimpers and shudders in pain, but then pushes through it. “Patches, I…” he clears his throat. “I don’t… but you said…”

“i said we should call her. to ask what’s going on. not to send you back. you’re not going back.”

“Oh.” His sockets close in relief. He actually thought Cash would take him back to that lab and leave him there. Cash honestly can’t decide if that says more about Twist’s non-existent sense of self-worth or his opinion of Cash. He knows he’s an ass, likes being an ass, but does he really come off as the kind of person who would do that to his... friend? Yeah, they’re friends. Just because he doesn’t advertise it to the whole world doesn’t mean he’s not attached to the idiot, and he thought the idiot knew that. On the other hand, he’s pretty sure Twist doesn’t consider himself to be worth a damn to anyone, and the way that bitch kept blaming everything on him can’t have helped, so maybe he really did think sending him back there was something a reasonable person would do? What the hell is Cash supposed to do with that? He’s not the one to help someone else with their psychological problems. Even if it is Twist. Fuck he wants to be good enough to help Twist.

The attacks just keep coming. Twist is completely drained, and also terrified. He won’t say it, but he is. He’s constantly shaking, and stopped talking soon after the conversation about calling Iggy. He’s also getting weaker. Whereas at first a bad attack could leave deep scratches on Cash’s hands, now it barely causes Twist to tense. This can’t go on. Cash is calling Iggy.

Twist probably doesn’t have the strength or coordination to hurt himself anymore, so Cash gently lays his hands at his sides to go get his phone. Iggy answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“this is cash. i need information about twist’s treatment.”

“Oh good, I’m glad you called, because you left way too quickly and I didn’t get to tell you more than the bare minimum, which really isn’t enough for the condition he’s in. If you’d just bring him back by the lab I’ll look him over and give you some more thorough instructions for treatment and monitoring-”

“he’s not coming back to the lab except on the schedule we already agreed to. if you need to ‘look him over’ you can come here. right now, i need you to tell me whether what’s happening is a problem, and if it is, i need to know what to do about it.”

“That would be a lot easier in the lab-”

“he’s not going.”

“_But_ if you’ll describe his symptoms, I’ll see what I can tell you.” Don’t piss her off. They need her help, so don’t piss her off, however much she pisses _him_ off.

“it’s like some extremely shortened version of that attack i saw in the lab, only a few seconds at a time, but it’s been happening for the past,” he checks his watch, “40 minutes, with pauses between five seconds and one minute.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s definitely good you called me. It sounds like there’s a buildup of corrupted magic somewhere-”

“what?!”

“Oh, it’s not as bad as it sounds, don’t worry, it’s just a byproduct that his soul shouldn’t have any trouble dealing with, even in its current condition, except that it can build up in one area beyond what that part of the soul can deal with and start causing problems. It’s relatively rare, but I should’ve expected it with him because of the amount of LV we’re dealing with. It would normally clear on its own but it might have gotten concentrated enough to disrupt the primary mana flow, which would interfere with the normal repurification process.”

“and that’s what’s causing his symptoms?”

“Yeah, probably, I mean it would be easier to tell if I could see it in person and we won’t know for sure until you examine his soul for the dark spot where it’s built up, but it’s definitely the best explanation for what you’re describing. The concentrated corrupted magic tends to send shocks through the whole system, which probably feel a lot like a node dissolving because they follow the same mana pathways. You really should have called me earlier, that could be really dangerous.”

“how was i supposed to know that when you didn’t tell me?”

“This is why you shouldn’t have taken him out of the lab. You don’t know enough to recognize a problem and his high LV means he’s almost guaranteed to experience some problems that were rare in my other subjects.”

“then tell me what to look for, like you should have done when i told you i was taking him.”

“I’ll work on writing up a list of warning signs and what they might mean, but it’s hard to classify every possible problem, so it’s really best if you just call me whenever anything seems even slightly odd. It would be even better if you’d bring him back here where he’d be safe, but since you won’t do that, at least keep in phone contact.”

“fine, i’ve called you, and you’ve told me what the problem is. now what should i do about it?

“It’s pretty easy to fix as long as that’s what the problem actually is. You’ll just need to take out his soul and find the dark spot. If there isn’t one, you’re going to have to bring him in, because that means something else is wrong that I can’t diagnose over the phone, but if it’s there, you just need to massage the affected area to break up the corrupted magic and get his circulation going again. His soul should take care of the rest. It’ll be oversensitive so you might get a negative reaction. I’d say restrain him but you’d probably get all offended so at least get out of reach of his claws. You might not care about him clawing you but I bet you’ll care if he makes you drop his soul.”

“i’ll handle it.” Stars, she talks about souls like they’re just some random object, like anyone can just pick them up and fuck around with them and not like they’re something that _shouldn’t be touched _except under specific circumstances in the kind of relationship they _do not have._ He’s reminded of Twist’s minimal reaction when she switched him to the smaller monitor. It was like he’d been desensitized to having his soul screwed around with, probably because he had. Cash wants to kill her. He wants to kill her so badly, but they need her, and right now he’s wasting time.

“You’d better get on with it,” she echoes his thoughts. “He should be perfectly fine if you fix it soon, but if it goes on too long it will kill him.”

“what?!” That sounds like something she knows from experience, which means this has killed someone before. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. “why didn’t you tell me this could kill him?!”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“how could it be obvious when you were talking about it like some minor scientific curiosity?!”

“I was not! I was just giving you the facts – no, this is stupid. I’m not letting an argument kill my patient.” Now _she’s_ going to act like the one trying to look out for Twist?! Where does she get off – no. She’s right about that, this is stupid, and it’s wasting time.

“so i need to get his soul and look for a dark spot? i’m putting you on speaker phone.”

“Yeah, it should show up pretty clearly against the color of his magic. Tell me when you’ve found it before you do anything; I want to make sure it is what I think it is. Actually, can you text me a picture?”

“sure.” Now he has to take out Twist’s soul. He knew he’d have to do something with it when he took over the treatment, but now that he has to actually take it, it seems horribly invasive. He’s not the kind of monster who would touch another monster’s soul without their permission. That’s just an absolutely disgusting thing to do. It’s different in a fight. That’s using magic against an opponent, not the same thing at all. Not that Twist is going to object to saving his life, but it still seems repugnant, especially with him barely conscious and unresponsive. Stars, if he’s not going to be able to agree to this then it would be easier if he was completely unconscious instead of vaguely staring in Cash’s direction and twitching every few seconds.

“Have you found it yet? Don’t tell me you’re getting squeamish. If you can’t do it, you’d better bring him back here right now because he’s not going to survive living with someone who’s afraid to touch his soul.”

“fuck off.” Twist isn’t going to die because Cash has developed a sudden, inconvenient respect for personal space. He reaches into Twist’s ribcage and forces himself to gently close his hand around Twist’s soul, a task made both easier and harder by the complete lack of a reaction from Twist. Taking care not to bump into any ribs or apply any unnecessary pressure whatsoever, he draws the soul into the open air and then cradles it in both open hands to examine it.

Most of the surface is the same as the first time he saw it in the lab, off-colored and raw with pieces scooped out that he now knows are from however she scraped off all of the calcification to make injections easier. He has to turn it over to find what he’s looking for; a darkened area about the size of a penny. He takes a picture and sends it to Iggy, despite reservations that it’s probably not good to send around pictures of someone’s soul.

“if i find that all over the internet tomorrow, i’ll know who’s responsible.”

“Are you seriously implying that I’d post my patient’s medical information on the internet? What kind of doctor do you think I am?”

“a scientist, not a doctor, and it would fit in with the rest of your ethical standards. now what’s the diagnosis? is it what you thought it was?”

“Definitely, and it’s gotten pretty bad, but we caught it in time. All you need to do is gently rub the discolored area until the discoloration goes away. It shouldn’t take long. Don’t press too hard because bruising will just make it worse.”

Fantastic. Now not only is he holding Twist’s soul without his permission while Twist stares at him blankly, he has to massage it. Could this get any worse? Well, yes, of course it could, he could stand around whining about it until Twist dusts. That would be worse. So stop complaining and do what needs to be done.

“sorry, twisted, i’ll put it back as soon as i can.” Not that Twist seems likely to hear him, but Cash explains his actions just in case he can as he begins to rub the affected area. “i’m sure this feels strange. i’m not sure how much you heard of what iggy said, but the reason i’m doing this is to fix your magic circulation, which will make you feel better.”

“He can’t hear you. He’s got to be too far out of it by now.”

“you have no way of knowing whether that’s true, and i’d rather risk talking to someone who can’t hear me than him being aware enough to know someone is doing something to his soul but not knowing why.” She must not have a counterargument for that because she doesn’t respond. Cash never does see the negative reaction she warned him about, but then, Twist isn’t reacting to anything. 

Gradually, the color of the dark patch fades, at first diffusing into the surrounding area and then disappearing completely over the next couple of minutes. “i think the color is gone. i don’t see it anymore.”

“Good. He’s probably fine now. If it’s faded enough to no longer be visible then it’s at a low enough concentration that he should be able to deal with it. Is he conscious?”

“his eyes are open but he’s not reacting.”

“Any signs of more of those mini-attacks?”

“no, but i’m not sure he’d react to one if it happened at this point.”

“Hmm. He’s probably fine, but it’s hard to be sure while he’s unresponsive. Maybe hang on to his soul for a minute or two to keep an eye on the color, and then if nothing’s happened you can put it back. You shouldn’t need me unless something changes so I’m going to get back to work. Call me if the color changes again or if he has another mini-attack, or if anything else happens.”

“ok. when can i expect the more detailed set of care instructions and warning signs?”

“I’ll get it to you as soon as possible. Like I said, it’s hard to write everything out because so much of it is just things I recognize from experience, and he’s going to be different from the other research subjects anyway, but I’ll see what I can come up with. I really need to get back to work now, unless there’s anything else you need?”

“no, just get me that information.”

“As soon as possible, yep. Bye.” She hangs up, leaving Cash with nothing to do but sit staring at Twist’s soul in his hands. It’s not doing anything, but he’d hate to put it back too early and let the whole thing happen all over again. With the urgency gone from the situation, it has become incredibly awkward. He really hopes Twist is too out of it to know what’s happening and that he stays that way for a while longer.

Of course, he can’t have that kind of luck. Twist blinks at him, and then his blank stare turns to one of confusion.

“Hey, uh, watcha doin’, sweetheart?” The hoarse whisper makes heat rise in Cash’s cheekbones. No, no, absolutely not. This is all part of a medical treatment, nothing weird about it at all. Just act normal.

“there was a problem with your magic that disrupted its flow in your soul. i had to break it up manually to get it working again.”

“Oh, tha’s fine, then. Havin’ all sorts’a problems with my magic.” They both stare at each other for a moment. “C’n I have it back now?”

“huh? oh, yeah, here.” Cash returns Twist’s soul perhaps a little more quickly and less carefully than he would like, but Twist doesn’t seem to mind. He seems very relieved.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Yer always… yer so… thanks.” That sounds like more than thanks for ending an awkward situation. Why does he feel like he’s being thanked for giving it back at all? Twist is _never _going back to that lab. Except his agreement with Iggy was to bring him back once a week, so that’s not really possible. That’s for later, though. For now, focus on what Twist needs now.

“do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, most’a it, at least. Not really sure what happened towards the end. Sorry ‘bout yer hands.”

“my hands are fine.” Actually, they sting pretty badly, but there’s no way he’s telling Twist that.

“Don’ look fine.”

“it’s just a few scratches, nothing to worry about.”

“If ya say so.” But he looks absolutely miserable about it. Why is he more upset about Cash’s hands than the fact that his own soul can randomly decide to torture him in new and creative ways that may or may not have the potential to kill him, with his only line of defense being Cash, who has no idea what he’s doing?

“i talked to iggy.”

“Kinda remember that. She told ya how ta fix me?”

“how fix this particular problem, at least. it seems there’s a lot she didn’t get around to telling us. she’s supposed to send more information soon.”

“Tha’s good. Be nice ta know wha’s happenin’ ta me sometimes.”

“you should already know what’s happening to you. she should have warned you about everything that could happen.”

“Not like I’da changed my mind, though. Ain’t gonna give up a cure just 'cause of somethin’ like this.”

“but you could at least have known what to expect so things like this don’t hit you out of nowhere.”

“Probly woulda fergot, anyway. Pretty much had ta accept that I ain’t got a clue what’s happenin’ ta me most’a the time. Ain’t so bad now I’m home.” He smiles reassuringly at Cash.

“would you stop trying to make me feel better?! you’re the one who’s hurt, not me. and stop justifying everything she does. she treated you terribly and you just keep repeating her excuses!”

“Eh, she’s as Fell as the rest of us, an’ she never claimed ta be the motherly type. Ain’t none of us with clean hands, an’ I don’ expect ‘er ta make an exception fer me. I’ve got my cure an’ she kept me alive. ‘s ‘bout all I expected.”

“maybe you need higher expectations.”

“Could say the same fer you.” What the fuck is that suppose to mean? “Look, sweetheart, ‘m real tired. I think that kinda fried me. Think I could try ta get some sleep fer a while?” Cash takes a moment to actually look at Twist, and realizes that he looks as bad as he did in the lab. Shit, what’s he doing? He’s arguing with Twist after Twist just spent nearly an hour in agony, and now he’s keeping him awake when he might have a few minutes to actually rest.

“of course you can sleep. you don’t need my permission. just tell me to shut up if i’m keeping you awake.” That gets a weak smile in return. “do you want some water first?” It’s surprising that he’s doing this well without water.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, darlin’.” He needs help holding the bottle, but gulps down the whole thing. Shit, has he been thirsty the whole time Cash was arguing with him? Why didn’t he say something?

“tell me when you’re that thirsty. don’t wait for me to ask or for a good time or whatever it is. it’s not that hard to get you water. you’re not making anything easier by ignoring what you need.”

“'kay. Jus’… we were busy talkin’.”

“we can talk after you’re not dying of thirst.”

“Wasn’t _dying_.”

“fine, when you’re not thirsty enough to drink a whole water bottle. and a few minutes ago you _were_ dying, so maybe think about that the next time you decide to ignore what you need because you don’t think it’s important enough to inconvenience someone.”

“That ain’t got nothin’ ta do with bein’ thirsty. Shit like that comes outta nowhere, an’ there’s nothin’ we can do ‘bout it so-”

“we don’t know that. we don’t know what causes any of this, and we don’t know what might make the difference between shit that leaves you laughing about it a minute later and shit that leaves you dust. you can brush it off and claim it’s all worth it, but if I considered your death an acceptable outcome i’d have left you on the path you were on before i paid for this fucking project.”

“Aw, Patches. You were really worried, weren’t ya?”

“of course i was worried! there’s an experimental medicine dissolving parts of your soul, and you don’t seem to care! and neither does your doctor! and i’m the only one here to take care of you, and i can’t rely on you to tell me what you need, and i’m trying to figure it out but i don’t know what you need because this isn’t the kind of thing i do. so don’t tell me everything’s fine and don’t ignore what you need.”

“It jus’ don’t seem like that big a deal.”

“none of your problems are ever a big deal, are they? you just keep smiling like nothing’s wrong while secretly planning how to kill yourself when you can’t pretend everything is fine anymore, like you could somehow make it ok for you to just be gone, like, like you’re the one to decide that you don’t matter enough for anyone to put the slightest effort into keeping you around.”

“I didn’t wanna die! Just couldn’t see how ta…”

“how to solve the whole problem yourself without letting anyone else realize how bad it was? how there could possibly ever be a solution to a problem that you knew people were already working on solving? what would have happened if i hadn’t found that list? i knew the lv project existed, but i’d never paid much attention to it because as far as i knew, everything was fine on the surface so we had plenty of time for someone else to figure it out. i didn’t know that you, of all people, were giving up.”

“I didn’t give up! Fuck, sweetheart, ya act like I was ‘bout ta off myself t'morrow! Ya think I wasn’ tryin’ ta hang on? I had a pretty good life goin’ fer myself, an’ I wasn’t in no hurry ta leave it. I toldja that. Jus’ didn’ wanna leave ever’thin’ up ta chance an’ risk waitin’ too long an’ doin’ sumthin’ I’d hate myself for. Jus’ wan’ed ta make sure I’d always be me! An’ it don’ matter now anyway, cause you fixed it! Stars, darlin’, ya fixed it, so sorry if I don’ seem too worried if things get a li’l painful er a li’l dang’rous, or even a _lot_ painful an’ dang’rous, cause I’m gettin’ my whole life back an’ I don’ really care what happens in between.”

“but you’re still doing the same thing. you’re still pretending everything is fine when it’s not and ignoring what you need.”

“I’ve asked ya fer plenty’a things!”

“but you’ve also not asked me for plenty of things, and that’s a problem, because i don’t think you take problems seriously enough when they’re your problems. do you really think it causes me more trouble to pause our conversation and get you some water than it causes you to not have water when you’re thirsty enough to drink the whole bottle?”

“No, but, ‘s just… I dunno. Think ‘m too tired fer this, sweetheart. An’ that is sumthin’ I’m askin’ for. C’n I sleep now? Ya said I could.” Fuck. Now he’s kept Twist awake just to yell at him. This is why he shouldn’t try to take care of people. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. How does Twist do it when _Cash_ is too caught up in his own bullshit to function? Not by yelling at him, that’s for sure.

“yes, you can sleep. sorry for keeping you awake.”

“Nah, ‘s fine. I know yer just worried. An’ maybe ya got a point, ‘bout askin fer things. Jus’ don’ wanna be too much trouble.”

“you’re not too much trouble. you’re plenty of trouble, but not because of asking for things, and do you know how much i just paid to keep you around? would i have done that if i thought you were too much trouble? have you ever known me to throw my money away?” That gets a smile. A small one, but it’s there.

“Nah, you never waste money. Can’t say I always see the point in what ya buy, but ya never throw it away.”

“then what does that say about you?”

“That there’s no accountin’ fer taste?” Cash glares. “Yeah, yeah, it means ya wanna keep me around. Ya ain’t gotta worry, sweetheart. I wanna keep me around too. Jus’ still comin’ ‘round ta the idea that that’s sumthin’ I c’n actually do.”

“well it is, and i don’t intend to let my investment go to waste, so i expect you to help out by telling me when you need something.”

“Ok. I really am tired, Patches. C’n I sleep now?”

“yes, go to sleep. are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”

“My blanket, maybe? Startin’ ta get cold.” Cash untangles the blanket from where it’s wrapped itself around Twist’s feet and lightly lays it over him. Twist snuggles up in the blanket, which is absolutely not at all adorable except somehow it is, and falls asleep. Cash brings an armchair over to the bed and settles in to keep watch.


	13. Chapter 13

Fur under his hands blood on them blood in the joints crushing them stop it hurts can’t stop they’ll break crushing them crushing bone fragile and cracking one eye staring begging him to stop but he can’t it’s too late it’s all dust “twist, hey, twisted, wake up, it’s just a dream. twist!” Touching him kill it! NO sorry so sorry it’s too late just dust “twist!” not real just dust killed him please no so sorry “papyrus!” stop it you’re dead stop it killed you “i’m not dead!” sorry sorry sorry sorry can’t fix it sorry it’s too late “there’s nothing to fix! i’m not dead! twist, papyrus, listen to me. you have to wake up!” No you’re dead then I’ll see you’re dead I killed you so sorry “twist, open your eyes and look at me. i’m alive. you didn’t kill me. just look at me.” It’s not real please be real it’s not real killed him he’s dust so sorry “i’m real! i’m not touching you again to prove it because you almost took off my hand but just open your eyes and you’ll see me.” don’ wanna please don’ wanna see it’s just dust “how could i talk to you if i was dust?” not real “so you’re arguing with someone who’s not real about whether they’re dust?” not… what… arguing?

“yes, you’re arguing.”

“I… wha’? Who…” dreading what he’ll find but needing to know, he cracks open his good socket. And what he sees…

“Wha’… Patches? Oh stars, Patches.” Lunging forward to grab his friend, who’s alive, oh thank the stars he’s alive, Twist overbalances and ends up clinging to Cash while hanging halfway out of the bed. He can’t hold on for long and then he’s slipping, but arms come up under his and hold him in place. He wants to cry but he can’t but Cash is alive! He’s not dust, he’s fine, Twist didn’t kill him. He doesn’t understand what’s happening but Cash is alive!

“How…?” Dizzy, he’s so dizzy, his head is spinning and his ears are ringing. He’s going to pass out but he has to know if it’s real. How can it be real? “Patches, are ya…?”

“i’m alive and i’m real.” Cash leans him back on the bed but he doesn’t want to let go, can’t bear to let go because he’ll forget this is real.

“Please don’ leave.”

“i’m not leaving.” Bracing himself against the bed to avoid falling on Twist, Cash sighs when it becomes clear that Twist isn’t letting go anytime soon. “move over.” Twist can’t move over but Cash moves him so it’s fine. Cash can move him anywhere he likes as long as he doesn’t leave or die. Fuck, he’s so tired, but he doesn’t want to sleep again, not if it’s going to be like that.

“Help me stay awake.”

“not sure that’s a good idea. you can barely keep your eyes open. you need sleep.”

“No please I don’ wanna kill ya.”

“you’re not going to kill me. you’ve barely even hurt me, and if you start dreaming about it again, i’ll wake you up.”

“Please, ya said… ya said ta ask, so I’m askin, please don’ lemme go ta sleep.”

“i’m not sure how to keep you awake. you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“‘m not! Not tired, not, ‘m fine, jus’ don’ wanna sleep.”

“your eyes are closed.” They are? No, fuck, don’t go to sleep. It won’t be better, it’ll just come back, or something just as bad, he knows it. And what might he do when he doesn’t know what he’s doing?

“I… I don’…” He can’t open his eyes. He didn’t even know they were closed, and now he can’t get them open, and he’s so dizzy. “Don’ wanna…”

“just sleep. i’ll stay here.”

“‘less I try ta hurt ya. Please, sweetheart, please, don’ lemme hurt ya.” And he could. It doesn’t matter that he can’t sit upright or open his eyes. He could still wipe out Cash’s HP with just a little intent, and there are plenty of things he could dream about that would make him attack with intent before he ever realized who he was with. He already… no, that was a dream, probably, no Cash is right here so it has to be a dream, but that doesn’t mean it can’t become real.

“Please don’ lemme go ta sleep.” He buries his face in Cash’s shirt. No, don’t do that, Cash doesn’t like that touchy-feely bullshit, it bothers him so he’ll leave. “Please don’ leave.”

“i’m not leaving and i won’t let you hurt me, but i can’t keep you awake forever.”

“Maybe… tea or coffee or somethin’?”

“i can’t imagine caffeine is good for you right now.”

“Then pinch me or somethin’!”

“i’m not pinching you. what the fuck, twisted? is this about my hands earlier?”

“Dunno, maybe it put it in my head, maybe… I… don’ let me hurt ya.”

“you’re not going to hurt me. you’re severely overestimating how dangerous you are right now.”

“But… I…” His head spins as he’s drawn towards unconsciousness, but he forces himself awake. Sleep drags at him so strongly it makes him sick, but he fights it with all his strength because nothing good waits for him there, and what if he does something real? What if he kills Cash?

“Please… I can’t… Patches…” He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say.

“go to sleep. i’ll wake you up when you have nightmares, but you have to sleep. and you’re not dangerous.” He wants to argue, to rail against the loss of his hard-won control, against relying on this temporary weakness to protect anyone from the violence that can boil up at the slightest provocation, but Cash won’t believe him and sleep pulls him down before he can mount any other defense.

They’re fighting, some pointless argument but it only takes a second, one instant’s loss of control and it’s too late, can’t fix dust. He never should have been around them, any of them. They’re too fragile and he shouldn’t have fragile things. They’d all say they’re not that fragile but they can’t say anything anymore because they’re all dust.

“twist, wake up. whatever’s happening isn’t real.” He blinks, and there’s Cash in front of him, very much not dust, but then he crumbles and he’s gone.

_Aren’t they so lovely, dearie?_ Lovely, not lovely, it’s not that they’re _lovely_ they’re his friends and they’re great, every one of them and he just wants to keep them, but now she has them because she has him and everything is hers and she won’t like him having something that isn’t hers. _Always so soft. Too soft. Get rid of them._ No, they’re not even here! How can she have them? They don’t belong here, they’re on the surface where she can’t get them. She can’t have them. How did she get them? _Are you arguing with me, dearie? Trying to keep your toys all to yourself? Ahuhuhu, you don’t want to do that. That just means I’ll have to break them first._ No she can’t have them she can’t she can’t-

“wake up! it’s not real. everything’s fine. you’re in your bed in your house on the surface. everyone is-”

Dust, they’re all dust. Dust in the joints of his hands that won't ever come clean. _Good job, dearie, now come get your reward. _It’s not a reward but it’s exactly what he deserves and he can’t do anything else so he does what she says like he always does because he can’t do anything else because she has them and this is all he can do to keep him safe, little Sans who just wants to bake and be kind to everyone, do anything to keep him safe, except he didn’t keep him safe, did he? Failed failed failed – 

Blood on his hands and dust in his bones, _wonderful work, dearie, _then chiding _no no no, I already gave you the cure, there’s no excuse for acting like this, all you had to do was let me cure you and you even screwed that up_, and _what did you expect? He’s not much use when it comes to thinking, nothing but a – _

“nothing you’re dreaming about is real. you’re just dreaming, that’s not where you are. i don’t know where you think you are but you’re at home in your own bed on the surface –”

Wrapped in silk so he can barely move, she wants him to do better so her claws dig in hard enough to crack bone but he can’t move he can’t breathe he’s trapped – 

It’s all started again, he’s been away from her for so long but now he’s back in the same place, different but it’s all the same, different colors different settings different monsters more excuses but it’s all the same, but she’s helping him so if he’d just do what she says it would be fine, but he can’t he can’t he can’t and it’s so hot.

He screams and she’s so mad and he doesn’t know why but he can’t stop and she’s so mad. He tries to do better, tries to stay put but it hurts and he can’t so she ties down his arms and it’s silk all over again, soft and smooth but it doesn’t break and he’s too weak to break it and it hurts and no one cares and he screams until his voice breaks and doesn’t understand why it hurts.

Sometime later it hurts less. It still hurts and he can barely breathe but he can think now, well enough to wonder what he did to earn that, why she did that to him. He must have fucked up _so_ badly, that’s never good. She can’t possibly be done. Talking, there’s talking, listen.

“here, drink this.”

What is it why’s she want him to drink it what is it?

“twist, drink. it’ll make you feel better.”

Better, nothing makes it better she won’t make anything better nothing – 

“drink it!” It’s in his mouth what’ll it do it’s in his mouth oh stars it’s water! He drinks until it’s gone, feels cool bliss coating his throat, soothing his soul, wishes it would never end but then it ends and now he has to pay.

“was that enough? do you need more?” _More, dearie?_ No can’t pay for more can’t pay for _this_! It burns, everything hurts and he’s so tired but _Make sure to show your appreciation, dearie_ he can’t disobey, not after she’s given him something, not now that he knows how far she’ll go when he fucks up <strike>trapped in the dark and everything hurts and his eye is broken and Sans is gone gone gone gone</strike> “can you hear me?” _Are you deaf as well as dumb, dearie?_ _Ahuhuhuhu_. Right, he knows what she wants. Show his appreciation.

The magic burns in his mouth, tongue barely holds together and the mana lines ache, but it’ll do the job and she’s right there, not undressed yet so he’s supposed to do it, can’t be graceful as he fumbles at the waistline but if she wanted some pretty delicate graceful thing she wouldn’t go to him. “what the fuck are you doing?”

Is he doing it wrong? Can’t do it better, nothing is working his fingers aren’t working and the tongue will barely stay and fuck it hurts but he has to obey he has to, “showin’… thankin’… I…” can’t talk she wants him to talk please just let him finish so it will stop. Hands on his shoulders and it _hurts_ why’s she doing this just let him finish he can’t, can’t keep…

“twist! you are not doing this to ‘thank’ me for water. what the fuck?”

Not… then what? _Not good enough, dearie_. Oh fuck he can’t, nothing’s working and everything screams when he moves and he can’t even _find_ enough magic, he can’t! But he can’t tell her no, can’t make her mad can’t fail her can’t _Not outliving your usefulness, are you, dearie? You know what I’ll have to do if there’s no more point in keeping you around._ What’ll she do? Remember what happened remember what she did nono_no_ can’t let her, he fucked up, don’t fuck up again, do what she wants but he _can’t_…

“twist? i don’t know what’s happening in your head right now, but you need to breathe.”

Would that help? Can’t breathe right, can’t get any air, maybe if he breathes better his magic will work, please it has to work. Stilling his frantic, shallow gasping, he draws in a deep breath - “good, that’s good, just take a deep breath.” -and forces his magic to form what she wants. Oh _fuck_ it hurts, oh stars it’s pulling every speck of magic from deep inside him, from places that don’t have any to spare, fuck this feels like dying but he’s got what she wants, has to do what she wants because she’s shown what she’ll do if he doesn’t, can’t let it happen, he’ll break either way but if he disobeys she’ll take… she’ll take away…

“what’s wrong? twist, what’s wrong?! what’s happening? tell me what’s wrong so i can help, i don’t know why you’re screaming, i don’t know what to do!”

Why’s she…? What’s she want? Stop screaming? He didn’t know he was.

“i don’t know how to help you.” Help him? Why would she…? “what are you…? what the fuck are you _doing_?! get rid of that! you don’t have the magic for that. you’re going to kill yourself at this rate. why would you even…? fuck, twisted, are you still trying to ‘thank me’ for the water? please stop. just… just get rid of that and try to breathe until you calm down. we can talk after you calm down.”

Calm – she wants – he can’t… why would she care if he’s calm? She doesn’t care if he passes out or spends all night shaking as long as he gets her off first. She likes it! Why does she want him calm?

He opens his eye sockets, can’t get them to light but he can see, kind of. They don’t really work and his head is killing him, everything is killing him, can’t keep this up much longer, why won’t she just – ? But that’s not her. What? His brow bone furrows in confusion.

“Yer not Muffet.”

“oh thank fuck. no, i’m not. i’m cash. later you’re going to have to tell me what all this is about muffet, but i’m definitely not her. now get rid of that.” He gestures vaguely towards Twist’s pelvis.

“Ya don’ want…?”

“no! i want you to get rid of that, and the tongue, before they fuck up your magic worse than it already is.” He doesn’t think he _could_ fuck it up much worse, except yes he can, because he can feel it ripping through broken mana lines, pulling from joints that can’t spare any and sparking as it’s torn from parts of his soul that aren’t available for use. But if he stops and she doesn’t want him to… But it’s not her. It’s not her and whoever this is said he could stop, ordered him to stop, so does that mean he can? Doesn’t matter, he has to, can’t keep it up any longer, so he releases the magic with a gasp and sobs as it returns to all the places that desperately need it.

“Sorry. D’ya want…?” He doesn’t know what he can offer as he gasps helplessly on the bed, but he has to try because he doesn’t know who this is but he doesn’t need a debt hanging over his head.

“i want you to relax and let your magic recover. And to not ever do that to yourself again. what the hell were you doing?”

“Tryna… tryna do what ya said… tryna thank ya fer the water.”

“i never said you needed to thank me for the water, let alone that you should do it by fucking me. i never said anything remotely like that. where did that shit even come from?” But that’s how it works. Nothing is free and if he’s in too bad of shape to do any kind of job, he’s got to pay for it somehow, so how else is he supposed to pay for it? He can’t do anything right now, apparently not even get somebody off, and this guy knows it, so what’s he going to do about it? Or maybe Twist isn’t the one who’s going to have to pay for it. Where’s Sans? Where’s Sans?!

“Do whatcha want ta me. ‘s fine. Jus’… I can’t do much, but you c’n do whatever ya like, but only ta me, if ya touch ’im you’ll pay. Don’ think I can’t make ya pay.” Not that he’s any kind of credible threat right now, but maybe the guy will take the offer to do whatever he wants to Twist and not risk whatever Twist might do whenever he gets out of whatever this is. Assuming Twist _will_ get out of whatever this is, but he has to believe he will, because hope is about all he has going for him at the moment.

“i’m not doing anything to you. what do you think is happening right now? who do you think i am?” Is that a trick question? What does any of that have to do with anything? Or, wait, actually, who is this guy, and how did he get here? And where is here? He doesn’t actually have a clue. Would it be better to pretend like he knows, or would that be pointless? Probably impossible, actually.

“Well yer def’nitely a skeleton, but that’s about all I know.” And that’s strange in itself, because he doesn’t know of there being any other skeletons besides him and his brother. That doesn’t mean there aren’t any. In fact, he could almost swear he’s met some before. Now wait, that doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t know of any other skeletons, but he’s met other skeletons. Those things can’t both be true. In fact, he could almost say the same about this guy. Never met him, but he could swear he knows him.

“shit. amnesia? i guess it’ll go away eventually. until it does, i’m cash, this is your house, and i’m taking care of you until your brother gets home, which he’s taking his time doing. i’m not here to hurt you, and you can have all the water you want for free, and whatever else you need, for that matter.”

Well that’s some grade A bullshit. After what he did earlier? Twist doesn’t know what it was, but whatever it was had him screaming like his marrow was boiling and fried his skull badly enough that he can’t remember how he got here. And he’s claiming to be here to help? Fuck that.

“Nothin’s free. What’s yer price? Rather pay it now than later.” Or let anyone else pay it. He said Blackberry isn’t here yet, <strike>Blackberry? Who’s Blackberry? Well it’s Sans, but why’s it seem like he should call him Blackberry?</strike> but that means he will be here soon. Does he even know about this asshole? And who the fuck is he, anyway? He said his name is Cash. What kind of a name is Cash? Fits him pretty well, actually, except how would Twist know that? Why does he keep thinking he knows things he doesn’t know? Or does that mean he does know them? What the fuck is going on?

“that’s what i’d like to know.” What? Did he say that out loud? Shit, have to be more careful with his skull fucked up this badly. “i get that your memory is fucked, but what i don’t get is why your first thought on waking up is that you need to thank me for giving you water by sucking me off. what do you think is going on?” He’s really stuck on that, isn’t he? Maybe he fancies himself some kind of nice guy who doesn’t do shit like that? Doesn’t mean he is one, but he might run with it if Twist plays along.

“Look, I jus’ don’ want any surprises. If ya wanna play all altruistic, fine, but jus’ be straight with me. Where am I, why’m I here, an’ why can’t I figure out if I know ya?” Maybe he’ll answer or maybe he’ll get tired of the game and get on with it, but maybe he’ll at least stop saying random shit like Twist’s supposed to know what he’s talking about.

“that last one is probably the lv treatment. it screws with your brain and you’ve had plenty of memory problems.”

“An’ what’s a ‘LV treatment’?”

“a cure for lv.” What the fuck?

“Why would anyone cure LV? ‘s not a disease. Most people want more of it, not less.”

“that was true underground, but not on the surface.”

“Why would anyone care what’s true on the surface?”

“because that’s where we are.”

“Yer shittin’ me.” But something about it almost sounds familiar, in the same way he’s almost seen other skeletons and almost knows this guy.

“i take it you’ve forgotten everything since before the universes merged on the surface.”

“Think I’d remember hearin’ somethin’ like that, yeah.” This is the weirdest shit. But it would also be pretty weird to make up. Universes merging? Being on the surface, maybe, but why bring in something like other universes? Who ever heard of there being more than one, and why would they merge, and what possible point could there be to claiming that they did if it’s not real? And why bother lying to him in the first place? This ‘Cash’ can do whatever he wants and there’s nothing Twist can do to stop him. This is why he’s better off leaving the thinking to other people. He’s terrible at it.

“So, we’re on the surface, an’ there’s more’n one universe, an’ they all merged together? Seems like that’d cause some problems.”

“fewer than you’d think, and a different kind than you’d think.”

“Huh.” They’re both silent for a moment.

“So these other universes, they got other monsters in ‘em? Other skeletons?”

“obviously. where do you think i came from?”

“Not a clue. Far as I know, ya jus’ showed up an’ started torturin’ me, an’ now yer sayin’ ya wanna help me an’ ain’t gonna hurt me, an’ then ya start on this universe shit, so I don’ know who ya are or where yer from or what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

“i didn’t–!” Cash sighs. “i think you’re confusing multiple events. lv is a liability on the surface, and you have enough of it to be a liability even underground, so you’re testing a treatment that’s supposed to reduce it. it has painful effects, which is probably what you’re remembering. it also affects the mind, which is why you’re confused and can’t remember anything recent. we know each other on the surface, and i was involved in funding the treatment, so i’m making sure you don’t dust until your brother can get here and take over.”

“Oh.” Again, that’s a really weird story to make up, and it has that same mixed up remembered/not remembered sense as those other things he’s not sure he knows. “So if I fergot all this, am I gonna remember it?”

That could be a problem if he can’t remember what’s been happening for however long. Muffet’s not going to be patient while he gets up to speed, and who knows how the operation has changed now that they’re on the surface instead of in Hotland. And how long is he going to be like this? Cash might not want to take advantage of it for whatever reason, but Muffet’s got no time for anyone who can’t be useful, and he’s about as useless as he can get right now in every possible way, as he saw earlier, except possibly as entertainment. Shit, what’s she going to do if he can’t be useful? Sans is coming here, Sans is going to take care of him, he’s still around so maybe he’s still working the bakery side of things, but will that be enough if Twist can’t keep earning their place? What if she decides the best use she can get out of both of them is as playthings? What if–

“twist!” Weird thing to randomly say, is he telling him to twist? Can’t move, can’t do anything, she’s not going to let him lie around being helpless and he doesn’t know what’s wrong so he doesn’t know how to get better – “papyrus!” That’s his name and the other thing is also his name, he forgot his name, what the fuck is wrong with him? Why can’t he remember anything? He has to remember, has to get up, can’t stay like this, they can’t afford it – “papyrus, you need to breathe.” He’s always on the breathing thing. Why does he care if Twist breathes? “breathe and calm down. it’s not as bad as you’re thinking. you always remember what you forgot and you’re going to get better. it will take awhile but there’s no rush.”

“But Muffet… I gotta…”

“but muffet nothing. i don’t know what your history is with her, but on the surface you have nothing to do with her.”

“I don’t? But I work fer her. Can’t of left. I jus’… I jus’ can’t.” That can’t be right, but even the suggestion lifts a weight off his ribs and eases his breathing.

“well apparently you did because you didn’t work for her by the time i met you. you fix cars in a garage with a bunch of humans.”

“I… what?” That sounds like a great job, except how would he know? He’s never seen a car in good enough condition to be fixed in his life. They aren't really the kind of thing that would be sitting around the dump. So why can he imagine the purring of a perfectly tuned engine, the pride of getting it running again when all it had seemed good for was the scrap heap? He can’t do that shit. That would take some real skill, probably even some delicate work to get results like that, and he’s the last monster anyone would pick for anything skilled or delicate.

“it sounds like you’re pretty good at it.” Ok, that part has to be made up, and it’s less total nonsense than the shit about universes and the surface if you don’t know Twist at all, but why would the guy start making shit up now? It seems random, and out of character for him to even bother, but wait, since when does he know this guy well enough to know what’s out of character for him? Well actually he’s known him awhile, because this is Cash, and Cash is… oh.

“Glad ta hear ya think so, Patches.”

“don’t let it go to your head. wait, i never told you to call me that.”

“Never do, but I know ya secretly love it.”

“what could possibly give you that idea…? twist?”

“That’s my name. Thanks fer waitin’ around ‘til I remembered it.”

“so you do remember?”

“Yeah. ‘s weird, randomly fergettin’ everythin’ like that. Real confusin’.”

“i’d think so. what was all that?”

“Nothin’. Just a bad dream that wouldn’ go away. Ya know how much this thing fucks me up when it gets goin’.

“some dream. what did you think was happening?”

“Not a clue.” Nothing Cash needs to worry about, at least.

“yeah, not buying it.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. ‘s the best I’ve got. Ya know how my mem’ry is right now.”

“i also know how great you are at letting people in on your problems.”

“What problems? Ain’t got that many of ‘em, ‘specially once this cure gets done with. Other’n the LV, I’m fine.”

“you just spent half an hour apologizing for killing me and all your friends, then you tried to pay me for water with sex, then you forgot who i was so you decided that attack earlier was probably me torturing you and that i want to do it again, and then you had a panic attack about working for muffet. you’re nothing remotely resembling fine.”

“Well that’s a bit embarrasin’. Can we jus’ chalk it all up ta the LV treatment?”

“your reactions, yes. the source of them? i doubt it.”

“So maybe ‘m not completely fine. I’m from a Fellverse, darlin’, what’d’ya expect? Can’t say you ain’t got some shit that bubbles up ta cause trouble every now’n then. Don’ mean it matters now.” He’s not going to let it matter now.

***

It shouldn’t matter now, but it seems that it does if it’s going to cause that kind of reaction. What the hell happened to Twist? That wasn’t normal Fellverse bullshit. Well it was, but more on the extreme end of Fellverse bullshit that tends to leave monsters fairly non-functional once they get to the surface. No one would call Twist completely sane, but he does function, and has actually adapted to surface life pretty well. In some ways he seems to fit the surface better than most Fellverse monsters, but there’s obviously a lot going on behind that. Not that it’s any of Cash’s business, but he’s accidentally made it his business by taking on this job that he’s even less qualified for than he originally thought.

Twist seems determined to push it under the rug, even though he clearly does remember what just happened, so maybe Cash should follow his lead. It’s not like Cash knows what to do about any of it. It seems like a problem that’s going to keep coming back, but Blackberry can probably help better than Cash can. If he ever gets around to coming home, that is. He wouldn’t have thought the little skeleton was one to stay out so late. Maybe he’s having a sleepover. The berries do that, sometimes, because they’re apparently actually six years old.

“Hey Patches?”

“hm?”

“‘m hot.”

“i’ll turn on the fan – oh fuck.” Twist’s face is twisted in pain and his hands clench at his sides. “can we just get a single fucking break?” No, they can’t, because soon Twist is screaming, and Cash shudders when he realizes that he hopes the screaming doesn’t stop, because that means it’s probably just a node and not more corrupted magic, because at least a node is supposed to happen and it won’t kill him.

Unless his HP drops, which of course it does, because the universe hates them both, and it looked easy when Iggy injected magic into Twist’s soul but this time he’s flailing and the monitor won’t stop blaring, and he doesn’t know how to turn it off and does that sound mean the HP is still dropping or is that still from the initial drop? He has to climb onto the bed and lean over to hold both of Twist’s arms in place to get his soul without Twist knocking it out of his hand, and he doesn’t know how long he has because that useless monitor doesn’t tell him anything and who knows what Iggy considered to be a safe threshold? Twist’s thrashing becomes more frantic when Cash grabs his soul, so now he’s trying to keep Twist from flinging himself out of bed or destroying his own soul while lining up a needle to go into that soul without driving it all the way through it as he continues to get knocked around. He’s almost decided to give up on keeping Twist in place and let him fall out of bed for the chance to refill his HP before he dusts, when blue magic grabs his soul and an icy voice from the doorway demands, “What are you doing to my brother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Audioarmada on tumblr did two incredible illustrations of the end of this chapter. Go admire their awesomeness.  
https://audioarmada.tumblr.com/post/187696244130/rainoverthemountains  
https://audioarmada.tumblr.com/post/187769873245/surprise-part-2-of-rainoverthemountains-good


	14. Chapter 14

“What are you doing to my brother?” Blackberry throws Cash against the wall with blue magic before he can even process the situation he walked in on. What was Cash even doing?! Blackberry never really trusted him, but he never thought he’d do something like… whatever that was. What was that? And what is that terrible sound? And what’s wrong with Twist? He’s struggling less than he was a moment ago but he’s still struggling, even though no one is anywhere near him. What’s going on?!

“Papy?”

“let me go, you idiot, unless you want him to dust!”

“You be quiet. What did you do to Papy? How do I fix it? And put his soul back where it belongs!” And oh, no, he didn’t even think! Cash was holding a needle against Twist’s soul when he threw him. That could have hurt Twist so badly. Except it didn’t, because at some point Cash dropped the syringe, and now he’s holding the soul protectively. Why would he protect Twist when he was hurting him just a moment ago? Why was he hurting him at all?

“you can fix it by letting me go so I can save his life!”

“Why would I let you go when you were the one who-?!”

“i didn’t cause this! i’ll explain when he’s not in the middle of critical hp loss. just let me go.” 

HP loss? He checks Twist. “Oh, stars!” Twist needs healed right this second.

“exactly! if you don’t let me go so i can give him that magic infusion that you knocked out of my hand, he’s going to dust, and there isn’t much time left.”

“Then I’ll just heal him.” There’s no reason to inject some strange glowing stuff into his soul. Cash shouldn’t be touching Twist’s soul anyway!

“no! do not heal him! his magic can’t handle it. you’ll just make it worse.”

“Make what worse? What’s happening?” This is so bad. He doesn’t know what to do. What if Cash is lying? But what if he’s telling the truth? Someone has to do something because Twist’s HP is dangerously low and the way he’s stopped struggling no longer looks like a good thing at all.

“his magic is fucked up because of the lv cure he’s trying.” What?! There’s a cure for LV?! “it can cause hp loss, and the magic in that syringe is the safest way to fix it. if you’re not going to let me go, take his soul and inject it yourself, because he doesn’t have much time.”

“If that’s supposed to help him, why was he fighting you?” And why is he mostly naked, and why were you in bed on top of him, he thinks but doesn’t ask. The HP part is more critical.

“he has no idea what’s happening, and he’s in an intolerable amount of pain because of the treatment. i’ll explain later, but there’s no time. i get that you don’t trust me, but right now you need to decide whether you’re going to save your brother or stand there arguing over a pile of dust.”

“I…” Twist isn’t moving anymore. Blackberry blinks away tears. As suspicious as the whole thing looked, he doesn’t actually think Cash would directly hurt Twist. Take advantage of him, yes. Hurt him indirectly by callously disregarding Twist’s misguided attempts at friendship, definitely. But go out of his way to hurt him? To kill him? No, that doesn’t seem likely. He at least doesn’t want him dead, and that’s what’s going to happen if they do nothing. He releases the magic.

Falling to his knees, Cash cradles Twist’s soul to his own ribcage while he lunges for the syringe. Blackberry cringes as the needle plunges through the surface of his brother’s soul. Oh stars, please let this be the right choice. Please let it work. He can’t keep watching as the glowing substance is pushed inside by the syringe, so he turns his gaze to Twist instead.

For a moment, Twist is still, and Blackberry’s own soul stills in terror as he fears it didn’t work. Then Twist’s back arches and he shrieks. Tears stream from Blackberry’s eyes as Twist convulses, but Cash has collapsed to the floor in relief and that terrible noise that’s been screeching in the background finally stops, so he checks Twist and finds that his HP has jumped several hundred points. He rushes to Twist’s side.

“Papy, you’re ok! It’s ok, you’re going to be ok! You’re getting better, your HP is going up and you’re going to be ok. It’s ok, I’ve got you.” At first Twist is moving too much to get near him, but as soon as he settles slightly Blackberry climbs into the bed and wraps his arms around his brother’s ribs in a hug. He jumps back a moment later, though, because Twist’s ribs are hot enough to scald bone.

“What’s wrong with him?” he demands of Cash. “Why’s he so hot, and what’s hurting him?”

“i told you, it’s a cure for lv.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“there wasn’t, but now there is. it’s still experimental, so this genius decided to go sign himself up without telling anyone instead of waiting until it was ready for mass distribution.”

Twist shows no sign that he knows anyone is there. The initial convulsions have stopped, but now he’s whimpering and scratching at his chest. Blackberry absently takes his hands to stop him.

“Is it safe? Well I mean obviously it’s not safe, but how dangerous is it?”

“it’s supposed to be safe when it’s managed correctly, but it’s never been tested on monsters with such high lv so it’s hard to know for sure.”

“How does it need to be managed, then? You don’t seem concerned that he’s obviously miserable, so is this a normal reaction? Isn’t there anything we can do to help?”

“nothing that i know of, other than keeping his hp up and not letting him hurt himself. it’ll go away after awhile, and then he’ll need some water and might have some temporary amnesia, and then before you know it he’ll be back to telling us why this was a brilliant idea and not one of the stupidest things he’s ever done.”

“Don’t talk about Papy like that.” Even if it is one of the stupidest things he’s ever done.

“we’ll see what you say after you’ve spent awhile taking care of him.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re doing much ‘taking care of’.” Although to be fair, Cash also looks exhausted, and he did just get thrown into a wall for trying to save Twist’s life. Blackberry feels a little bit bad about that, but really, how was he _supposed_ to interpret what he walked in on?

“there’s really not much you can do during this part. just keep him in bed and don’t let him hurt himself. he’s calmer now than he was earlier, so he might come out of it soon. or he might just be wearing himself out.” Cash pulls himself up using the dresser and wearily walks to the bed, where he collapses in the armchair he must have brought from downstairs.

Well, at least they have a place to start. “Do you have the water you said he needed?”

“yeah, it’s right here.” Cash lifts a water bottle from the floor where it has fallen, then frowns. “or maybe not. looks like i never got a chance to refill it. it’s been a long night. and a long day.” He sighs as he sits upright in the chair, probably getting ready to go refill the bottle.

Blackberry almost thanks him, but then takes another look at him. Bruises peek out from under his clothes, probably from struggling with Twist earlier. The hands gripping the arms of the chair are covered in scratches, and he winces as he straightens his back. Honestly, it’s surprising Cash’s own HP made it through all that damage, except that Twist must have been randomly flailing with no intent behind it and Blackberry’s only goal was to get Cash away from Twist, not to hurt him. And he’s been watching Twist for however long while Blackberry distracted himself from his worry by watching movies with Blue. It doesn’t seem right to make him go all the way to the kitchen and back, even if he would probably teleport.

“I’ll get it.” Cash’s eyelight darts to him in surprise, so he continues. “You don’t look like you’re feeling very well, so I’ll go refill the water as long as you’ll keep an eye on my brother.”

“ok.” Cash slumps back in the chair, but focuses his eyelight on Twist. He can probably handle things for a few minutes. It would be horrible to not be ready for the only thing they can do for Twist, so Blackberry rushes downstairs.

His hands shake as he fills the bottle with water. A lot of things ran through his mind when he first stepped into the house to hear an alarm blaring, people shouting, and a whole lot more commotion from Twist’s room, none of them very coherent ideas and none of them remotely related to what was actually happening. He’s still not sure he knows what was actually happening. A cure for LV? One that he’s never heard of but Twist is apparently right in the middle of? And for some reason Cash knows about it? And it’s hurting Twist, could even kill him, and somehow this was all happening at home while Blackberry was obliviously watching movies with Blue? When did Twist even get back from his vacation? Was he ever on vacation in the first place, or was it all about this cure thing? And why is this the first time Blackberry has heard about any of it?

He almost drops the bottle when cold water runs over his hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid, there’s no time to waste thinking about any of this. Twist needs water and Twist almost died so he needs anything that might possibly help even a little. Oh stars, Twist almost died, all because Blackberry jumped to conclusions and wouldn’t listen to Cash. Tears drip down his face and then he realizes he’s crying at the sink letting water run over his hands while his brother is suffering upstairs.

He almost regrets turning off the water. It feels so nice on his hands, which are still uncomfortable from where he touched Twist’s ribs earlier. Oh stars, Twist was so hot. How can he stand it? Blackberry’s bones sting everywhere he touched him during that brief hug. He lets himself have just a moment to wipe each area with a cold, damp towel, and then nearly smacks himself for his thoughtlessness. If this makes _him_ feel so much better, couldn’t it help Twist?

Pulling out the biggest pitcher they own, he fills it with cold water and then dumps in some ice for good measure. Then he tosses in some hand towels, races to the stairs, realizes he forgot the water bottle, rushes back to get it, drapes the rest of the kitchen towels over his arm just in case, and carries the whole pile of objects up the stairs, trying not to spill too much of the water or drop anything. Maybe it won’t help, but maybe it will, so he has to try.

***

Relieved that Blackberry volunteered to get the water, Cash slumps back in the chair, careful of his aching back. Today sucks. It could have been a whole lot worse, though. How did Blackberry throw him against the wall that hard without knocking out his HP? And how did Cash have the presence of mind to protect Twist’s soul while being flung against the wall? And why did Blackberry decide to listen to him when he’d clearly misinterpreted what he’d walked in on, which admittedly must have looked pretty suspicious? The universe hates them all, but it seems like it decided to cut them a break. A very small break.

Twist is calmer now, but he’s not any better. Most likely he’s just running out of energy. He’s not scratching up his ribs anymore, which could be a good sign except that he’s still digging his claws into his hands, so maybe he just can’t lift them anymore. His face sure doesn’t look any better.

“here, stop that.” He takes Twist’s hands in his own. They have so little strength left that he probably couldn’t do himself any damage anyway, but the fingers close around Cash’s own so Cash lets him hang on. It’s helped before.

It’s not long before Blackberry walks in, trying not to spill a pitcher of water while carrying a stack of towels as high as his head. The little skeleton carefully sets the pitcher on the dresser without letting the towels fall everywhere, then stares at Cash.

“what?” Cash follows his gaze. Fuck. He’s looking right at where Cash is holding Twist’s hands. Turning away with a scowl, he pulls his hands away, feeling like shit when Twist tries to hold on. Now Blackberry’s scowling too. Self-righteous prick.

“he was scratching his hands.”

“I wasn’t – never mind.” Blackberry approaches the bed. “I thought cooling his bones off might help.” He looks expectantly at Cash. Like Cash knows?

“well, try it, then.” It’ll work or it’ll cause another disaster. Probably a disaster, the way the day’s been going, but maybe Blackberry will have better luck.

“Ok.” Blackberry lightly wrings out one of the towels in the pitcher, then hesitantly brushes it along one of Twist’s ribs.

Cash’s soul drops as the water sizzles and Twist flinches, but then Twist sighs and maybe… yes! He’s pressing into the towel. He likes it! “it’s working!”

Blackberry grins at his exclamation and wipes the towel along another rib. It sizzles as much as the last one, but Twist is definitely pressing into it now. “Come help me!”

There’s no need to tell Cash twice. He’s sat through these things for hours without being able to do a thing about them, and now there’s finally something he can do. His own aches are forgotten as he takes another towel from the pitcher and lays it over several bones at once before putting a new one in the water. Blackberry soon follows his example, even draping a few along Twist’s spine. Before long, Twist’s ribs and spine are covered in damp towels. All they have to do now is replace them when they get too warm.

“That’s much better. How can it possibly be safe for his bones to be that hot? Or his soul?”

“according to the alphys who’s running the lv project, the one from your universe, it’s normal. he’s been with her for almost a week and she never did anything about it, so i don’t think she was concerned. of course, all she cares about is keeping him alive long enough to get her precious ‘results’, so she wasn’t too worried about his comfort or the inside of his ribs being scorched.” And Cash clearly should have put more effort into dealing with the side effects that she didn’t care about. Of course Twist’s ribs shouldn’t be this hot. Of course Cash should have tried to cool them down. He should have called Blackberry the moment he brought Twist home. Cash is not qualified to take care of anyone.

“Papy has been with a scientist all this time? A fellverse scientist?” Blackberry looks like he’s about to cry again. Fantastic. This is part of why he didn’t call him.

“she apparently convinced him to let her test the treatment on him without telling anyone, because she knew perfectly well that no one else would put up with how she treated him.”

“Test the treatment? As in, it hasn’t been tested before?!”

“it has, but only on monsters with half his lv. she needed data on high lv subjects, so instead of working her way up she decided to jump right up to the highest lv she could find.”

“Oh, Papy.” Blackberry closes his eyes and sighs. “And you said she didn’t treat him well?”

“not at all. when i found him, he was alone in the lab, tied to a bed, naked, and when she came in the room he tried to protect me from her. now part of that is that the treatment fucks with his mind and he forgets where he is and who he’s with, but i really doubt that’s all it was.” And apparently that wasn’t so much oncoming tears as oncoming rage, because Blackberry’s face now holds the expression of cold fury that Cash hasn’t seen since his own early self-destructive terrible choices regarding Twist.

“Where is she now? Still in her lab?” Iggy probably shouldn’t eat or drink anything that’s been out of her sight anytime soon. Unfortunately, as much as he’d like to let her face whatever’s behind those falsely innocent eyes right now, they still need her.

“twist still needs her help to get through this treatment.”

“The last thing he needs is any more help from her.”

“he’s almost died twice now from things either you or i didn’t know. actually, three or four times, if you count when i found him in the lab. she’s not in charge of the treatment and she’s not allowed to be around him without supervision, but we do need her. she’s the only one who actually understands this treatment.”

“She shouldn’t be allowed to treat him like that and just get away with it.”

“no, she shouldn’t, but if you try to get revenge right now, you’ll probably kill your brother.” Blackberry looks like he wants to argue more, but then his gaze settles on Twist, who looks like the slightest mistake could leave him dust. There’s really no arguing that either of them knows what they’re doing.

“I just… how could this happen? Why didn’t he tell me?” And now there really are tears.

“because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot who would do anything to get rid of his lv and doesn’t think anyone else should know he has any problems.”

Blackberry sighs. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Oh, Papy.” Twist shifts on the bed, and his face loses the grimace it’s held. “Brother?”

Twist blinks, and his eyelight drifts to Cash. “Patches?” His voice is hoarse and strained, but he’s not coughing yet. Cash motions for Blackberry to bring the water bottle, which he rushes to do.

Twist’s sockets open wide when Blackberry steps into his line of sight. “Bro!” But the exclamation is too much for the strained magic in his throat, and he immediately starts coughing.

“shit, give me the water.” Blackberry complies without argument, and Cash watches for a chance to get the straw in Twist’s mouth without choking him. He must have been fast enough, because Twist soon latches on and gulps the water, sockets closing in relief.

“the water calms his magic down or something,” Cash explains. “i don’t really know how it works, but if he coughs too long it can fuck up his breathing.” He doesn’t even let Twist try to hold the water bottle on his own. There’s no chance he has that much strength left and he doesn’t need to drop it.

“Good to know.” Blackberry watches wide-eyed as Twist drains the bottle. He looks concerned and tries to take it away when Twist chokes on the water, but Cash waves him off.

“he’s fine. choking doesn’t hurt him and he needs the water.” Blackberry doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t take the bottle either, and soon the water is gone.

“now we’ll see what kind of shape he’s in. if we’re lucky, he remembers everything, but i’ve seen him lose years or remember everything but not know what’s real. whatever happens, he always comes back eventually, but hopefully it won’t be a problem. he knew who we both were, so that’s a good sign.”

Blackberry nods, and watches Twist intently.

Twist’s sockets open when Cash takes the water bottle away. The eyelight is dull and unfocused, but brightens when it rests on Blackberry.

“Bro?” His voice is still hoarse and quiet, but not so much that Cash worries about another coughing fit.

“Brother? Are you alright?”

“Been better.” Twist winces. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Don’t you remember?”

“Gen’rally, yeah, but ‘m not sure… when’d you get here?” This seemingly innocuous question is enough for Blackberry to fling himself at Twist.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, brother. I was worried that something was wrong but I kept convincing myself that everything was fine, and I shouldn’t have because you never texted me back or answered my calls and I know you’d never do that so I should have known that something was wrong, but I just kept finding reasons why everything must be fine, and I kept worrying but I knew it wouldn’t do any good so I just tried to distract myself until you got home, and I should have been looking for you or told someone I was worried so they could help look for you, and then Cash called and I was so worried but he said he knew where you were but he hung up and never answered when I tried to call him back,” What? Cash never got any calls. Damn laboratory equipment probably messed with the reception.

Blackberry is still babbling. “So I thought maybe he’d gone wherever you went without cell reception, and I was still worried but I had no way to contact either of you and I still wasn’t sure anything was wrong so I didn’t want to tell anyone when there actually wasn’t anything to worry about, but I should have. I’m so sorry, Papy, I should have gotten help as soon as I realized you weren’t answering your phone. Then someone could have found you and helped you and you wouldn’t have spent all week in a lab and maybe you would be doing better if I was there to take care of you, and I wasn’t even here when you came home because I was at Blue’s house trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

“Woah, little bro, calm down. ‘s ok. If I’d wanted ya ta worry ‘bout me, I’d’a told ya.”

“But now you’re hurt!”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m gonna get better. D’ya know what all this is for?”

“Cash told me it’s a cure for LV. Is it really? I remember there was research about it back home, but I had no idea it had progressed this far.”

“Amazin’, innit? An’ it‘s all ‘cause Cash-” Cash glares and shakes his head. His role in this is no one’s business. Twist wasn’t even supposed to know. Twist rolls his eyelight, but changes what he was going to say. “Cash’s really helped me. Found me an’ got me outta there, an’ yelled at Iggy, if I remember right. I don’ blame ‘er like he does, but it was somethin’ ta see.” Cash snorts.

“she deserves a lot worse than getting yelled at. we do need her, though.”

Blackberry scowls, lifting his head from where he’s buried it against Twist’s ribs. “I have a few things to say to her too, but let’s focus on getting you better, first.”

“Sure thing.” Blackberry hugs Twist tighter, then pulls back when Twist gasps.

“I’m sorry. Do you not want a hug? I didn’t even check if you wanted a hug before hugging you. I’m sorry, Papy. I know you’re hurt and you’ve been through a lot. Do you not want a hug?” About time he thought about that, as far as Cash is concerned, especially since Twist hasn’t moved to return the hug, but when does Blackberry ever stop to think about things like that? He’s so taleverse, sometimes.

“Nah, never gonna say no ta one a’ yer hugs, bro. ‘s jus’ that my arms don’ work too well right now, an’ my bones ‘re a little sensitive.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that. Should I stop?”

“Nah. Seriously, bro, I like yer hug. I jus’ can’t hug ya back, an’ maybe try not ta squeeze so hard.”

“Ok, I’ll be careful.”

“Thanks, bro. Yer the best.”

Cash turns away from the exaggerated display of affection. This is why he can never stand to be around these two together for too long. He’s about to leave the room, maybe step out for a smoke, when Twist speaks.

“Hey, uh, got a question fer both a’ ya.” What is it? Has he forgotten something? Is he confused? Hallucinating? What’s wrong now?

“What is it, Papy? Are you ok?” Anything could be wrong. Maybe he doesn’t know who they are. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is. Maybe it’s some new terrible thing that they’ll have no idea how to deal with, and they’ll have to call Iggy, and-

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” He always says he’s fine, right up until everything falls apart and he can’t be fine anymore.

“Then what do you need?” Clearly Blackberry shares his concern. Of course, he’s spent years dealing with Twist pretending to be fine while he’s falling apart, or maybe he didn’t realize Twist was falling apart and is only realizing it now, but either way he’s worried, as he should be.

“Just, uh… is there a reason I’m covered in towels?” Or maybe he wants to know why he’s covered in towels.


	15. Chapter 15

“Just, uh… ‘s there a reason I’m covered in towels?” Cash and Blackberry stare at Twist blankly. “Somethin’ wrong?” Because it sure seems to be.

“that’s it? that’s all you need?” Cash sounds like he can’t quite understand why someone would want to know why they’re covered in towels. Blackberry looks a little better, but not much. Neither of them seem to know what to do with the question.

“Seems like a reasonable thing ta wanna know.” He’s feeling a little scrambled, but not terribly so, and it seems like a situation worth commenting on. Their reactions are concerning.

“Are they bothering you? Are they hurting you? I’m sorry, I thought it would help because your ribs were so hot, and it seemed like it did help, but I’ll take them off if they’re bothering you.” Blackberry reaches out to do just that.

“Hey, hey, never said they were botherin’ me! Feels nice! Jus’ wonderin’ what’s got you two so upset?”

“i’m not upset,” Cash mutters, but he looks away and fails to hide the purple glow on his cheek.

Blackberry doesn’t see it, the same way he misses most signs that Cash isn’t a complete asshole. “Well, you should be, and of course I’m upset. Papy, you almost died!” 

“Is that what this is all about?”

“Brother! What do you mean, ‘is that what this is all about’? It seems like a pretty good reason to be upset to me!”

“don’t bother trying to get him to take any of this seriously. all he cares about is getting rid of the lv, and damn the consequences.”

“Well it won’t do much good to get rid of your LV if you’re dead.”

“I know-”

“don’t bother with that line of reasoning either. he won’t listen.”

“I’m listenin’ just fine, but-”

“Don’t tell me how to talk to my brother. I’ve talked him out of plenty of terrible decisions before.”

“Now wait jus’ a minute-”

“there’s nothing to talk him out of. he’s already had the treatment, so he’s in it for the long haul, at least until his lv drops a level. or until he’s dust.”

“‘m not gonna-”

“Well he could at least show some concern for his own health. How am I supposed to take care of him if he doesn’t even care that he almost died? Not that it would matter to you.”

“you’re one to talk, just accepting when your brother disappears for a week. not that i care, but-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH. Both’a ya.” Both skeletons go silent in shock. “I can see yer both tired an’ upset, an’ I’m tired too, so why don’cha both just settle down an’ we c’n talk about this like reasonable adults.” They both look at each other, then turn back to Twist, talking over each other.

“Surely you can see why I’m worried, brother-”

“you can’t just expect us to-”

“Enough! One at a time. ‘m too tired fer this.” They both glare at each other, then Cash crosses his arms and leans casually against the wall. And he thinks Twist is the ridiculous one?

“We’re just worried,” Blackberry explains solicitously. Cash snorts. “Fine, _I’m_ just worried, and Cash has driven himself to the point of collapse taking care of you because that’s his idea of a fun way to spend the evening.” It’s probably best not to comment on the return of the purple blush.

“I get that yer worried, bro, but that’s no reason ta be fightin’ like this. How’s that s’posed ta help?”

“How does it help for you to almost die?”

“I didn’t die-”

“But you almost did, and you don’t even care!”

“Mind lettin’ me finish a sentence fer once?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m just so-”

“Worried, I know. I get that yer worried, bro, I really do. But ya gotta un’erstand, this ain’t how I’m gonna die, it’s how I’m gonna _live_. This’s gonna save me.”

“Save you from what?”

“Ya know the answer ta that. Don’ play naïve, bro, not about this.”

“Papy-”

“No. I know ya like ta think I was doin’ jus’ fine, an’ I didn’t like ta think ‘bout it either so I didn’t argue with ya much, but we both know I ain’t been fine fer awhile.” Blackberry averts his eyelights. “But now I will be. Jus’ gotta get through this first.”

“It won’t matter how much LV you have if you’re dust.”

“No, it wouldn’t, which is why I’m not gonna be dust.”

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do about it.”

“Me? Nah. Not much I can do about anythin’ right now, an’ I know it. But it seems like there’re some monsters who’er pretty damn determined ta keep me alive, so I’m likin’ my chances. They’re at least better than they were with all the LV.”

“But you were managing it! You were ok!”

“Managin’, yeah, but not much more than that, an’ there’s only so long it c’n be managed. Look, bro, ‘m too tired ta talk about this now. ‘m not gonna dust, but this cure thing really takes it outta me. Did Cash fill ya in on how it works?”

“Not really. I mean, he did a little, but we were more concerned with keeping you from dusting or melting into a pile of molten bone. Or suffocating. Brother, just think about all the ways you almost died just since I got here. How can you act like everything is fine?”

“Never said everythin’ was fine. Whole situation can best be described by a bunch’a words yer always gettin’ on me fer sayin’.”

“stars-damned clusterfuck with a-”

“You hush.” Cash answers Blackberry with a middle finger, but puts no more effort into arguing.

“Not that I disagree with ya, darlin’, but that’s maybe not the most helpful right now.” Twist gets a middle finger too, before Cash sighs and makes his way over to slump in the chair. He looks about as close to passing out as Twist feels, but saying so would cause more trouble than it’s worth. It was probably too much to hope for that the helpful, relatively friendly version of Cash he’s seen for the past few hours would stay now that Blackberry is here. He’s surprised, and a little touched, that it lasted as long as it did.

Of course, it’s probably exhaustion, as much as anything. It can’t have been easy taking care of Twist through all of that, and he doesn’t know what time it is but it’s dark out. “Hey, sweetheart, why don’cha get some sleep.”

“i’m fine.”

“No, yer not, an’ if I can’t get away with it then neither can you.”

“it’s not exactly the same thing.”

“No, it ain’t, but yer not gonna do anyone any good if ya pass out an’ fall outta that chair. Think I’m spendin’ enough time on the floor fer the both of us.”

“Why are you spending time on the floor?” Blackberry demands, then hisses at Cash, “why is he spending time on the floor? Are you letting him lay on the floor? He should be in bed!”

“Bro! Stop. Ya gotta stop jumpin’ ta the worst possible conclusion. No one ‘let’ me lay on the floor. I ain’t doin’ too well with holdin’ still in bed, an’ ya mighta noticed I ain’t really up ta walkin’ around, so anytime I leave the bed I’m gonna end up on the floor. It ain’t Cash’s fault, an’ it’s only happened once since he started lookin’ after me, which is a better track record than Iggy had, and she had a whole lab ta work with.”

“you’d think with a lab and all her grant money, she could have come up with a better solution than tying you to the bed,” Cash mutters.

“She what?!” Twist winces. Blackberry really doesn’t yell all that often, but when he does, he can really put some volume behind it.

“It’s not as bad as he’s makin’ it sound. She was just keepin’ me outta trouble. I signed up fer this treatment knowin’ exactly how bad it could be. Signed all the papers an’ everythin’.”

“and how accurate were those papers? did they describe constant agony, completely non-functional magic, and constant flashbacks?” Blackberry whimpers at Cash’s description.

“They described it well enough. Think I’d’a backed out if I’d had a little more detail? I need this. I’m not gonna get mad at Iggy jus’ cause she wasn’t all that _nice_ ‘bout givin’ me the rest of my life back.”

“she left you tied to a hospital bed, naked, alone, with nothing but some wires in your soul to let her know when you were in danger of dusting.”

“It wasn’t like that in the beginnin’. I ain’t the easiest patient.”

“what did you do, fall out of bed? scratch her hands?” Cash holds up his own hands, displaying the scratches and lines of dried magic from Twist’s claws. Twist winces.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Ya really shouldn’t be around me when I get like that.”

“you mean when you’re in enough pain to try to rip out your own soul? or when you’re hallucinating and think you need to defend yourself? i’m having trouble seeing how any of that is your fault.”

“Maybe it’s not, but that don’ mean anyone else should have ta deal with it.” And could Cash please stop saying things like that in front of Blackberry? He looks torn between rushing off to murder Iggy and breaking down sobbing.

“it’s better than the alternative, and the fact that you’re arguing that it’s not doesn’t make a strong case for you being in the right frame of mind to make decisions about your health.”

“I ain’t sayin’ you should let me rip out my soul. I ain’t exactly enjoyin’ it right now, but I want it ta stay where it is as much ‘s the next monster. I’m jus’ sayin’ you should probly consider some other solutions ‘fore I do more damage than you c’n get over. That’s all Iggy did. She jus’ found a solution ta keep me from hurtin’ myself without lettin’ me shred her hands or puttin’ all her other work on hold ta babysit me. She didn’t know I got little thing ‘bout bein’ tied up.”

“a little thing? you were scared out of your mind.” That’s getting a little more personal than Twist would like. Fortunately, he has an excuse.

“Maybe I was, but that’s jus’ the way the treatment screws with my skull. You’ve seen how it turns everythin’ inta a big dramatic mess. Don’ mean nothin’, an’ she couldn’ta known how much trouble it’d cause me.”

“so you’re saying you never objected to it?”

“Yeah, course I did, a few times, but it ain’t her job ta make me comfy an’ happy. I ain’t the easiest person ta take care of, but she made it work. I may not’a liked how she did it, but I’m alive an’ I’m gettin’ rid’a my LV, an’ that’s what matters. And now I’m home, which is even better.” Cash just shakes his head, giving up.

Blackberry’s reaction is more concerning. The tears and rage are gone, replaced with a sweetness that isn’t one single bit genuine. Fuck. “I still think I need to pay her a little visit. Maybe bring her a lovely gift to thank her for her _wonderful_ help.” Shit, he does _not _have the energy to talk his brother out of poisoning his doctor.

“Don’ do that.”

“Why not? Don’t you think she deserves something for taking such good care of you?”

“She was just tryna help.”

“Yes, and she was very helpful. That’s why she secretly locked you up in a lab and put acid in your soul. And tied you to a bed.” Blackberry doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand how bad the LV problem was, so he can’t understand that it doesn’t _matter_ what the solution costs as long as it works. He doesn’t understand that Twist agreed to this.

“Gonna poison me too, then?”

“What? Of course not. I’d never hurt you, Papy. Why would I do that?”

“I agreed ta the whole thing. Was as much my choice as it was hers. She was only doin’ what I asked her ta do.”

“We’ll that’s different. Obviously, she manipulated you and pressured you into agreeing to it without fully explaining the risks, and you-” he cuts himself off.

“I what? I was too stupid ta ask questions? Or say no? Or make my own decisions?”

“That’s not what I meant! I just mean that you’re, well…”

“Crazy? Impulsive? Scared outta my mind of losin’ my mind an’ killin’ everyone? All true, but it was still my choice, an’ I don’t regret it.”

“She still should have made sure you understood what you were getting into, or at least taken better care of you, or told someone about it so someone else could take care of you.”

“Yeah, she coulda done that. Woulda been nice. But I didn’ tell ya either, an’ I won’ have ya puttin’ all the blame on her for somethin’ that’s my fault, too.”

“But she hurt you! You always act like it doesn’t matter when people hurt you, but it does. It matters when you’re hurt! I hate it! You always try to pretend you’re fine but I know you’re hurt, and there’s nothing I can do about it because you always try to hide it from me, and-”

“C’mere, bro.” Blackberry collapses against Twist’s ribcage, sobbing. “Hey, shh, it’s ok. It sucks right now, but everythin’s gonna get better.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know it’s more likely than it’s been in a long time.”

“But we were ok! We’re on the surface with all of our friends, and everything was getting better, and-”

“And it still is! C’mon, bro, I know ya don’t really think I coulda kept everythin’ under control forever. Yer smarter than that. But now I’m gonna be fine. And we’re still on the surface, an’ we still got our friends, an’ I know yer mad at Iggy but she wants her research ta work so she’s gonna make sure it does, so I’m gonna be around a long time ta enjoy everythin’ good that’s happened.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

“I’m not dyin’. ‘specially not with so many people who ain’t gonna let me.” He smiles at Cash over Blackberry’s head. Cash just scowls at him, but no amount of grumpiness can counter the way he’s been taking care of Twist or the decision to save him in the first place. “Now, ya both look exhausted, and so am I. How ‘bout we all get some sleep, an’ we can deal with the rest of it t'morrow.”

Cash scoffs. “and leave you unsupervised? that sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Then take turns sleepin’, er somethin’. _Someone_ should get some sleep, at least.”

“You should go home, Cash. I can take care of everything here.”

“do you even know what taking care of everything involves?”

“I will once you tell me.”

“i’d tell you if i knew. iggy hasn’t been very forthcoming with information, probably because she wants twist back in the lab. she’s supposed to send more information soon, but i doubt there’ll be anything until at least tomorrow, if then.”

“Well tell me what you know for now.”

“give him lots of water. keep him in bed. that alarm you heard earlier is from an hp monitor attached to his soul. if it goes off, give him one of those injections you saw earlier. they have to go into his soul. they’re in that box.” He points to a box on floor by the dresser. “keep it closed because they can degrade in the light.” He pauses to think. “don’t give him normal food. there are some powders on the kitchen counter with instructions for how to mix them into some kind of shake thing. it tastes terrible but it’s good for him and it doesn’t strain his magic. try to avoid doing anything that might strain his magic.” 

“Wait, let me write all this down.” Blackberry scrambles to get a notepad and pen and jots down some notes. “Ok, I’m ready for more. What was happening when I came in? I know his HP was falling, but why?”

“that was a node in his lv dissolving. don’t ask for details because i don’t know how it works, but apparently lv is distributed in some kind of network in the soul that’s connected through some kind of nodes. the medicine dissolves lv as it moves through his soul, and sometimes it gets into one of those nodes, which causes the pain you saw earlier. it means that it’s making progress, but it’s extremely painful and sometimes it can affect his hp. it can affect his emotional stability, too. i don’t know why, something about how everything is connected in the soul.”

Blackberry looks to Twist for confirmation. Twist wishes he had anything else to tell him.

“That’s about as much as I un’erstand, too, bro. Iggy showed me some readings one time that were s’posed ta show EXP destabilizing, or somethin’, but all I got outta it was that there was some kinda progress happenin’. So that’s good, at least, an’ most of those node attack things don’t fuck up my HP quite as bad as the one you saw.” And it looks like he’s getting a reprieve on the language monitoring, which is a nice bonus, because talking is getting to be a lot of work.

“he also has nightmares and flashbacks. your guess is as good as mine about what to do for those. he might have some suggestions.”

“Nah, not really. Jus’ don’t lemme hurt ya.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, brother!”

“I might if I don' know who ya are. Look at Cash.”

“But he-”

“He’s been takin’ good care a’ me an’ he’s been too nice ta look after himself.”

“I’ve never known being too nice to be one of Cash’s problems.”

“Well maybe ya jus’ don’ look close enough.” Cash snorts. “An’ tha’s enough outta you, sweetheart. Yer ‘unredeemable asshole’ image is on shaky ground after all the shit ya’ve done fer me taday.”

“i’ll be sure to be more careful about that in the future.”

“Sure ya will. Yer jus’ grumpy ‘cause yer tired, darlin’. Get some sleep. I’ll be jus’ fine with my bro fer awhile. Anything else ya wanna tell him?”

“not that i can think of. blackberry, you should probably just call iggy if something unexpected happens. i did it once, and it kept twist from dying. she’ll probably try to convince you to take him back to the lab, but just refuse and she’ll tell you what to do instead.”

“How do you know all this anyway?”

“trial and error, mostly, and a few instructions from iggy.”

“No, I mean, how did you even know where he was?”

“i have my sources.”

“What sources?”

“that’s none of your concern.”

“It certainly is my concern when it involves you knowing where my brother mysteriously disappeared to and not telling anyone, even though you knew what was happening to him.”

“i didn’t know where he was until i called you. i didn’t even know he was missing. as soon as i realized what had happened, i brought him home.”

“And that’s another thing. Why didn’t you tell anyone that he was here? From the way you’re talking, you’ve been here for hours at least, and I never heard a word about it.”

“i was busy.”

“Too busy to text? It doesn’t take long to type ‘I found Twist, come home now.’”

“i assumed you’d come home before long. by the time it was clear that you wouldn’t, i assumed were busy wherever you’d found to spend the night, maybe loosened up enough to find another bed-”

“How dare you!”

Twist glares at Cash. “Patches. Shut it. Right now. I dunno what the fuck’s got inta you, but ya know perfectly well not ta talk ta my bro like that. An’ bro, cut the interrogation. Ya don’t need ta know every detail of every single thing that happened, an’ some things ‘er none’a yer business. Ya both wanna help me so bad? I wanna go ta sleep. Think ya c’n stop fightin’ long enough fer me ta do that, or do I gotta stay awake ta keep babysittin’ ya both?”

Blackberry looks stunned. “Papy! Can’t you see he’s hiding things? And what he just implied I was doing? You trust him too much.”

“An’ just a minute ago you were askin’ his advice on how ta take good care of me, an’ he was givin’ it to ya. And Cash, there was no call ta say that ta my brother. He’s just upset, an’ yer jus’ tired, and we’ll all do better after a good night’s sleep.” Not that Twist expects to get a good night’s sleep, but these two definitely need one.

“I’m not tired,” Blackberry insists. “Cash probably is though,” he acknowledges. Cash, of course, just snorts and turns away, but there’s no profanity or insults involved so Twist counts it as a win.

“Look, Patches, I really ‘preciate everythin’ ya’v done fer me taday. It’s been the best day I’ve had all week.”

“_that’s_ a hard record to beat.”

“Yeah, well, it has been, an’ I know how I’d be spendin’ my night if it weren’t fer you. So thanks, darlin’.” Cash scowls. Twist continues anyway. “But now yer about as worn out as I am, an’ ya really need ta get some sleep. You c’n sleep here or go home, but sittin’ in that chair gettin’ more annoyed all night ain’t gonna do anyone any good.”

“I can take care of Papy,” Blackberry agrees. “We really do appreciate how much you’ve helped him, but I can take it from here.” Now what’s that expression on Cash’s face? It’s more than annoyance, more like… but it’s gone before Twist can figure it out.

“fine. since you’ve got everything covered, i’m going home. call iggy if anything unexpected happens.” Cash’s tone doesn’t sound right. It’s sort of flat, but flat isn’t unusual for him and it never sounds quite like that. Something is wrong, but Twist’s thoughts are getting a little fuzzy, and he just doesn’t have the energy to figure it out.

“I’ll see ya soon, won’t I, sweetheart?” He sure hopes so, but what if he pushed too hard and Cash runs away? He seemed to be handling it alright, but he’s prickly, and he likes being prickly, so maybe he was just waiting for a chance to get away without leaving Twist to die?

“sure.” That’s an agreement, at least, even if it’s not a very enthusiastic one. Sometimes that’s the best anyone can get from Cash, so Twist should probably leave it at that, but he can’t help but worry.

“Ya sure ‘bout that? Not about ta run off ta that new penthouse of yers an’ put on a few more locks so I can’t get in ‘til I’m up fer a bit more of a challenge?”

“might want to work on making it to your own door before you try to break into mine.” Ooh, that was almost a smile. Twist holds back his own, not wanting to push it. That’s a slightly better way to end the day.

“See ya soon, right?”

“yeah. don’t die.”

“Not plannin’ on it.” That’s about as friendly a farewell as he’s going to get, so it’s just as well that Cash chooses that moment to teleport away. Maybe he’ll feel better after he sleeps. Twist probably won’t, but maybe he at least won’t have to keep those two off each other’s throats.

“Well,” Blackberry huffs, “he certainly is pleasant to have around.”

“He’s tryin’, bro.”

“Really?” He looks skeptical. Understandably, but still-

“Yeah, really. Shoulda seen him earlier, ‘specially when he was yellin’ at Iggy. You’da liked that.” Blackberry smiles a little. “He’s really been helpin’ me, too. I know you’ve seen some’ve it, an’ he’s put up with a lotta shit from me taday. Sorry, stuff. A lotta stuff. I’m really fucked up, bro. Sorry, uh, messed up. Is that…? Yeah, tha’s the word. Good enough. What was I sayin’?”

“That you’re really messed up, which you’re kind of proving at the moment.” Blackberry giggles.

“Yeah, talkin’s not goin’ too good.” Twist smiles too. He’s trying to be serious, but he’s happy to join his brother in a moment of amusement over the nonsense that’s coming out of his mouth. “Really, though, I’m fucked… messed… why’s that word so hard all the sudden? What was I sayin’? I’m messed up. Not jus’ when I talk. ‘s also… messed up? Nah, already said that. Think I need ta sleep.”

“Then go to sleep. Whatever it is can wait until the morning. At this rate, it might be faster to wait until the morning to talk anyway.” Twist chuckles. He’s really not getting anywhere with talking. Unfortunately, what he needs to say is important.

“Listen, bro, it really can’t wait fer the mornin’. What I’m tryin’ ta tell ya is that I’m fucked up. Messed up. My skull is messed up. I think. Does that sound right?”

“It sounds right to me, syntactically, at least.”

“Ok. My skull is messed up. An’ I don’ just mean the nonsense I’m sayin’. More like… ya saw me earlier, saw how much it fu-messed me up phycally… that’s not a word, shit, it’s gettin’ worse, an’ I don’ normally have this kinda trouble talkin’. See, this random shit, stuff, happens all the time, some random symptom that could be a one time deal or could be the start a some new slice’a hell. But I was tryna tell ya somethin’. Got any idea what it was?”

“Something messed up your skull, and something about being messed up ‘phycally,’ whatever that means. Oh! Do you mean ‘physically’?”

“Yeah! Tha’s it. Physically. The medicine messes me up physically, and ‘parently my words, but it also f-_messes_ me up mentally. Like, with memories an’ shit. Things. Whatever. Or it makes shit up. An’ I can’t always tell what’s real, so sometimes I react ta them in ways ya might not like. Sure ya wanna deal with all that?”

“Of course! I mean, not that I want it to happen, but of course I want to take care of you. How could you even ask that?”

“Jus’ don’ wanna upset ya with the things I could do. Just… If I start ta freak ya out, just leave. I’ll come outta it eventually.”

“I absolutely will not leave. What kind of brother would I be if I left you alone to suffer just because you did something that made me uncomfortable?”

“I might make ya more’n ‘uncomfertable’. I’m really fucked up. Messed up. An’ I can’t… I’m probly not gonna be able ta help ya.”

“Well that’s perfectly fine, because I’m here to help you, not the other way around. Honestly, I can’t believe you think I’d leave you alone just because I’m uncomfortable,” Twist opens his mouth to interject, “or more than uncomfortable. I don’t care. I want to take care of you.”

“Ya don’t gotta do that.”

“I want to.”

“It ain’t yer job.”

“Yes it is.”

“But it’s…”

“What, it’s your job to take care of me so I can’t possibly take care of you? You know that’s not true.”

“I know, but…” Twist sighs. “Look, bro, it’s not that I don’ think you c’n take care of me. ‘s jus’ that I don’ want ya runnin’ yerself inta the ground doin’ it. I know you, an’ I know you’ll keep goin’ ‘til ya collapse, an’ I ain’t care of easy – no, tha’s not how words work. Fuck, I need sleep. Wait, sorry, messed, no, tha’s the other thing. That means somethin’ else. I… oh yeah! I ain’t easy ta take care of. Just lookit Cash. That’s after just… what, a day, half a day, maybe, a’ takin’ care of me.”

“I can handle it.”

“I’m sure ya can, but this ain’t no quick fix. Been like this fer a week already, and it’s got no signs of endin’ soon. Ya really wanna take on this job all by yerself?”

“What do you want me to do, bring in a hospital’s nursing staff? Or would you rather a bunch of strangers see how ‘messed up’ you are instead of me?”

“Tha’s not what I meant, bro. ‘s just… don’ work yerself down ta dust over me, please, bro, please. I didn’t do this ta make you do all the work. It was s… s’posed ta…”

“Ok, Papy, ok. I won’t overwork myself. Now please just go to sleep. We can talk about it more in the morning when you’re able to handle a conversation.”

“Ya promise you’ll take care’a yerself?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Will ya ask fer help if ya need it? I don’ care who finds out wha’s wrong with me, so just ask someone, anyone, when ya need help er a break er somethin’.”

“Of course, brother. If I need help, I’ll ask someone.”

“Ok.” The reassurance is helpful. He should probably get into it more, but keeping his sockets open is getting harder and harder. “Hey, bro?”

“Hmm?”

“Think ya could take these towels off me? I get why they’re here an’ I think they helped, but I’m gettin’ kinda cold now.”

“Oh, of course! I completely forgot!” Blackberry quickly collects all the towels and covers Twist with a blanket. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, feels great. Thanks, bro.”

“Of course. Do you need anything else?”

“Jus’ ta sleep, I think.”

“Alright, I’ll let you sleep, then.”

“How ‘bout you? It’s late, innit? Don’cha need ta sleep too? Ya seemed tired earlier.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. Not tired at all! You know me, I can stay up half the night with a good book without meaning too.”

“Yeah, me too, normally, but this ain’t normal. How ‘bout ya lay down next ta me in bed? ‘s comfy.” He snuggles down into his pillow to demonstrate, which gets another giggle from his brother.

“I’m sure it is. I’ll go to bed soon, I promise.”

“Ok.” None of that was very believable, but Twist’s sockets are closing whether he wants them to or not, so it will have to do for now. As he drifts towards sleep, a wave of /comfort/love/protection/hope/ washes over him, and he smiles. Keeping this is so worth anything he has to do to stay here, and for the first time in days he doesn’t have to convince himself that it’s true.


	16. Chapter 16

Blackberry keeps projecting /comfort/love/protection/hope/ until he’s absolutely certain that Twist is asleep. Twist looks so sick, and so hurt, and so fragile. It’s devastating that his brother has been like this for a week and never told him. He runs a finger over one of the healing scrapes on Twist’s ribs. Why has no one healed these? Sure, they’re small compared to the rest of the problems caused by the treatment, but that’s no reason to just leave them open like this. He calls up a little bit of healing magic, but pulls back when Twist twitches. “Brother? Are you alright?” Twist doesn’t answer, but twitches again.

“What’s wrong? I hope it isn’t one of those nodes. That one earlier was terrible.” Remembering how hot Twist’s soul got, he puts a hand over Twist’s ribcage right over where his soul sits. The area doesn’t feel any warmer than usual. On the other hand, how does he know heat is always involved?

It sounds like Cash doesn’t even know very much about the treatment. He might not have even told Blackberry everything he knows, for that matter, and Twist might not have been thinking clearly enough to correct him. Twist might not have been thinking clearly the whole night, actually, between defending Cash, and defending _Iggy_ after what she did to him, and the way he couldn’t even keep his words straight before falling asleep. Cash did help, but it’s going a little too far to call him nice, and there’s nothing good to be said for Iggy. She’s going to pay for treating Twist like she did. Just not yet.

Not that being too trusting or too forgiving is necessarily a sign that something is wrong with Twist. Maybe last night was just his normal problems in that area turned up a bit because he’s not feeling well. He just wants to think the best of everyone. On the other hand, how could he not be impaired after a week of going through things like what Blackberry saw earlier, with no one to take care of him? He even suggested Blackberry shouldn’t take care of him, which makes no sense at all.

If only he’d told Blackberry from the beginning. He could have interjected a little caution and common sense into the whole situation if he’d known. Not that he doesn’t want his brother to have the cure, just that they should proceed a little more carefully. Maybe they could have waited a few months or a year or two or a little longer until there was some clearer information about it, because either no one knows enough about it or no one has bothered to tell Blackberry. It can’t be all that well-established as a treatment or he would have heard about it, either in the news or through their friends at the embassy.

Twist’s breathing speeds up and he’s starting to move more under his blanket, little twitches as his face scrunches up in a way that Blackberry would normally associate with a bad dream. Or a nightmare. Twist moans, long and low and hurt and frightened, and Blackberry shuts his sockets in sympathy. 

“Oh, Papy.” Twist gets such bad nightmares, sometimes. Not all the time, but often enough to notice. He usually hides them and always denies them, but Blackberry has known about them since they were children. Since they first joined Muffet, really, even though he didn’t make the connection about the timing until he was older. Then all that terrible business when they were separated made it all worse, and he still won’t let Blackberry help.

“I’m here, brother,” he promises, but makes no move to wake Twist. Waking him up will just leave him shaky and upset, and he’ll hide it as soon as he can but he’ll be like that for hours, underneath the happy front. Letting the nightmare play out is usually best. If he sleeps through it he’ll probably feel better by the time he wakes up.

Twist is moving more now, and whimpering. It’s not consistent, more like he’s reacting to what happens in the dream, which means Blackberry is probably about to get a front row seat to the kinds of things that give his brother nightmares. He hates it. He hates it so much, and he hates that Twist will never talk about it so all he can do is speculate.

“I don’…” Blackberry jumps when Twist speaks.

“Brother?”

“Don’ wanna… can’t…” His head twists back and forth on the pillow, expression pained.

“Don’t want to what? You don’t have to do anything, just sleep.” If only he could just sleep. Blackberry blinks back tears, though he doesn’t know why he bothers. He’ll probably be crying for his brother by the end anyway. He might as well. It’s not like Twist can cry for himself.

“Can’t, please, I can’t… don’t –” Twist’s back arches, and his mouth pulls back in a grimace.

“Brother?” He suspects Twist isn’t hearing anything he’s saying, but he’s not sure.

“I… mmmmgh… I c’n… yeah, I c’n do that. Jus’… don’… nnnnnn.”

“Don’t what?

“Sorry, fucked up, know I did… fix it, I’ll fix it, ya don’ gotta-” Twist gasps. “Not tellin’ ya what ta do. ‘m not. Jus’… Sorry! I’ll fix it, an’ I’ll make it up ta ya, I know I’m a fuckup but I’m decent at that.”

Oh stars, please stop. Listening to this is unbearable. “Brother! You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not a, a ‘fuckup’. You’re not. Please brother, please listen to me. You’re the best brother ever and I love you and you didn’t do anything wrong, and anyone who says you did is a liar and they don’t know you at all and you shouldn’t listen to them.” Twist whimpers, and chokes, and there’s magic building up in his broken socket, which can’t be good for him.

“You probably shouldn’t do that. Your magic is unstable. Please, Papy, I promise you’re safe at home. There’s no reason to do that.” Not that Twist probably knows what he’s telling him, or that he’s even speaking. It’s so hard to not be able to help. 

He picks up one of the towels piled beside the bed and dabs the tears from his own eyes. Crying isn’t helpful, and it will just upset Twist when he wakes up to see it. Then he wipes away the excess magic spilling over the edges of Twist’s broken socket. At the touch of the towel, Twist flinches away. The cloth catches on one of the rough edges of the socket, making him yelp. 

Blackberry yanks his hand back at the sound. “Oh! Oh, Papy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The towel is still caught, so he reaches to remove it, but freezes when he sees Twist’s working eyelight lit.

“Papy?” Twist blinks at him, but gives no other response. “Are you alright? I’m sorry I woke you up.” Twist still doesn’t move. “Can you hear me?” Why isn’t he answering?

“I can’t just leave that towel on your face, but I don’t want to touch you if you aren’t awake enough to know it’s me. Can you please just let me know you hear me?” Still no reaction. Surely his eyes being open means he’s awake. Maybe he’s just confused and that’s why he’s not talking.

“Brother, it’s me, Sans.” This gets a small movement, but not enough to be an acknowledgement. “Don’t worry, it’s just me, just Sans. I guess that’s not very specific these days. It’s your brother. I’m your little brother Sans. Can you hear me? Can you see me? It’s Sans.”

“Sans.” The word is barely a whisper.

“Yes, Sans! I’m Sans. Oh, Papy, I was so worried when you wouldn’t answer. Are you doing better now? I’m so glad you’re back with me. Here, let me get that towel off your face. All I seem to do lately is cover you in towels. But this one is a little stuck, so just let me work it free…”

He gently rests one hand against the bone shard that has caught the towel, about to use the other to pull the towel free, but at the slightest contact Twist yelps and flings himself away across the bed. The blanket he’s wrapped in keeps him from hitting the wall, but only tangles tighter around him as he realizes he’s trapped and struggles to get free.

“Oh, stars, I’m sorry. Hold still, I’ll help you get out. Brother, hold still!” Twist is fighting too desperately against the blanket for Blackberry to find an end of it to untangle him. Trying to free himself by tearing the blanket off of his body only gets his claws stuck, and with every turn he moves closer to the side of the bed against the wall. Or almost against the wall, but not quite, because all of the commotion of the past few hours has moved the bed quite a bit farther from the wall than it usually is, which Blackberry only notices as Twist falls over the side. “Brother!”

***

The air is driven from Twist’s chest as he’s thrown into the trunk. It’s smaller than before, pressing in from the top so he can’t even move his arms from where they’re tied against his body. Why is it smaller? Did the first one not break him well enough so now he’s not even allowed to breathe? There’s no air! No, there’s air but he can’t have it, ribs compressed into a space where they shouldn’t fit and something wrapped around him so he can’t even push against the walls.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, can’t breathe, can’t move, no air. Never going to be air again, she’ll never let him out, just put him back in each time and now it’s not just panic, he really can’t breathe! The walls are closing in to crush him, they’re already crushing him, he can feel his ribs bending, pulling from his spine, breaking, they’ll break and she’ll leave him here alone forever with no ribs and no air!

“Brother!”

That sounds like Sans. How can it be Sans? She took him away. She won’t bring him back, unless she brought him back to see Twist dust in this box. She might do that. He wants to see Sans again so badly but not like this as she’s pulling his arm to tear him in half before he dusts. Sans shouldn’t see this. Sans should be safe away from all of this but Twist failed so now there’s no one to keep Sans safe. He should try to get out, get to Sans, but he can’t move and he can’t breathe.

Then the lid falls away and he falls up onto the floor.

***

Blackberry cringes when Twist lands facedown on the floor. He first tried pulling him back up on the bed, but he was stuck and there wasn’t enough leverage, and pulling Twist’s arm produced such an awful strangled cry that he quickly abandoned that plan in favor of moving the mattress instead. What he didn’t consider was that the mattresses had moved more than the bed frame, so Twist had actually been suspended several inches above the ground and moving the mattress while Twist tried to escape let him fall the rest of the way to the floor.

Twist lies where he fell, unmoving. The blanket rises and falls with each breath, but he doesn’t turn his face towards Blackberry or try to escape the blanket. What if he’s unconscious? What if he cracked his skull? He’s already so badly hurt, please don’t let him have a head injury on top of everything else.

“Brother?” Blackberry puts a hand on Twist’s shoulder. Twist flinches. “I’m sorry, but I really need you to give me some sign that you’re ok. Can you please answer me or look at me?” Surely he can at least do one of those, unless he hit his head, or what if he hurt his neck and also his ribs so he can’t turn his head or talk?

“Wh…” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s a response!

“Yes, Papy? What is it?”

“Wha… wan’ me… ta say?”

“Whatever you want to say! Just tell me if you’re alright, first.”

“A’righ…?”

“Yes, are you? Oh, I’m sorry, it must be hard speaking into the floor like that. Is it ok if I turn you over?”

It’s several seconds before he gets a response. “Ok?”

Why does Twist sound so confused about everything he asks? “Ok, as in, will it hurt you more if I turn you over? Can I do that? I think it will make talking easier.”

“Yeah? Do wha’cha want?” Definitely still confused, but talking to the floor can’t be helping. Cradling Twist’s head and hoping the blanket provides enough protection for the rest of his body, Blackberry turns Twist over as gently as he can in the narrow space. Twist whimpers, but doesn’t resist. He does pull his head out of Blackberry’s hold as soon as he’s in a stable position, but then his sockets widen and he puts it back. That’s strange, but hardly the biggest concern at the moment.

“There, that’s better. Now, how are you doing? You were pretty upset up on the bed, and then you got stuck between the bed and the wall, which I’m sure was terrible, and did you get hurt? I know it wouldn’t normally be a big deal, but you’re hurt so badly already, and oh, look at your face, it’s all bruised up! Are there more bruises under the blanket? Let’s get you out of there. Oh stars, I should have done that right away. What’s wrong with me, leaving you in there like I don’t know how much you hate being trapped in small spaces? I’m so sorry. Just hold on for a moment and I’ll have you out.”

Promising that feels a little overly-optimistic after his complete failure to free his brother from the blanket earlier, but this time Twist is very cooperative. Actually, he’s too cooperative, holding very, very still the whole time Blackberry is touching him. It’s wrong for Twist to be this still, hurt or not. Something is wrong.

***

Twist keeps himself perfectly compliant with everything Muffet does to him. There’s no good reason for her to have let him out, but if she’s decided to then he can’t take the slightest chance of fucking it up. He’ll fail eventually, but anything he can do to get a slightly longer reprieve is worth doing.

Not only has she let him out of the trunk, but she’s taking him out of whatever she has him wrapped up in. It takes time because it’s shredded and tangled around his joints, but he makes sure to stay perfectly still the whole time, only moving when she moves him. She won’t appreciate initiative in this kind of mood. Just wait for orders. Of course, implied orders are as important as direct orders, so he really needs to clear the blurriness from his skull and start paying attention.

Some of her questions sounded like she wanted to know what condition he’s in. That suggests she has some kind of use for him that involves him being able to do something. Is he in a condition to do anything? It’s hard to tell without moving, and he doesn’t dare do that. She told him to wait for her to get him out. Out of the thing he’s wrapped in, he assumes, so don’t do anything until she’s done.

The cold air on his bones reminds him that he’s nearly naked. In a… bedroom? On the floor, but definitely in a bedroom. Where did the trunk go? Never mind, just listen.

“-I finish getting this off, we need to get you back in bed.” Well that explains what she wants. She wouldn’t want him in bed just to relax. But why is he on the floor, and where is the trunk? Just listen.

“-and I was so worried when you fell.” Worried? Why would she be worried? Because he fell? Did he fuck up a job by tripping in a fight, or something? That would explain why everything hurts, but isn’t enough to explain why she was ‘worried’. She wouldn’t give him a job that was that important. Not after he ruined everything with the last one.

“You have bruises everywhere, although some of those might be from earlier, but I don’t see any broken bones-” and now she’s assessing his health? Shouldn’t that be a job for someone else if she wants it done for some reason?

“-just get you back in bed and get back to-” Back to what? What are they doing? She probably wouldn’t bother with him in this condition unless she was the one who made him like this in the first place and she wants to keep going, which paints a pretty clear picture of what he has to look forward to. If she was done with him, she’d just leave him here until he could get himself up, or if she wanted him healed up for something she’d call someone else in to take care of it. So that really only leaves one option.

“-breathing. Why are you breathing so fast?” Now she doesn’t like how he’s breathing? She must really be in a mood to be picking at things like that. No, just, please don’t let her be in a mood. Everything hurts too much to manage one of her moods. 

“-better back in bed-” Better for her, but probably not better for him. “-pick you up, it might hurt but we-” how generous, warning him that she’s about to hurt him. “-up?” He’s probably supposed to appreciate it, and there’s only ever one way to show - “Did you hear me?” What? Shit, is he supposed to answer? What was the question?

“-me? Stars, you’re getting worse. What’s wrong? Is it-” He’s doing something wrong. She doesn’t like what he’s doing. Shit, she’s angry, on top of whatever mood she was already in, and on top of him interrupting whatever she was doing by falling on the floor, because she wouldn’t be on the floor on purpose when there’s a perfectly good bed right there. He didn’t do what she wanted so she’ll put him back, please don’t put him back, please, he can take anything but going back in the trunk, please he can’t go back in the trunk, can’t!

“-in a trunk?” No no no nonononono can’t!

“Papy! I’m not putting you in a trunk!” Lying, she’s lying, she’ll break him in pieces and lock him inside, never let him out until she wants something but whatever it is will never be good enough so she’ll always put him back, and each time he’ll break until there’s nothing left, but she wants him to break so she’ll have fun breaking him, she’ll laugh, <strike>ahuhuhu but you break so beautifully, dearie, and it’s the only beautiful thing about you so you should appreciate the opportunity</strike> and crush him back into little pieces like she did before-

“Papy! I’m not going to hurt you! I swear I’m not touching you and I’m not putting you in a trunk! Oh please, Papy, please listen. It’s me, it’s Sans! Your little brother! You know I’d never hurt you! You know that, don’t you? Please, brother, just listen. I don’t know why you’re so scared. I’d never hurt you. I wish no one had ever hurt you, I wish it so much.” She sounds so sad. She can’t do sad, that’s fake, acts like she cares so you walk right into her web, then drains you dry and never lets you go.

“Papy?” But that voice. It keeps calling him Papy. And brother. She doesn’t say that. That’s not her voice. She doesn’t say that!

“Brother? Can you hear me?” Who…? That’s Sans! Why is Sans here?

“Sans?”

“Yes! It’s me. Oh, I was so worried. But you can hear me now, right?” Why is he here? He can’t be here.

“Go-” It’s hard to get the words out through the terror. Oh, that’s why he’s breathing so fast; he’s terrified. But she shouldn’t mind that, should she? Why’s she complaining about signs that he’s scared of her? She usually works her ass off for those and now he’s giving them away for free.

“Go where? I’m not leaving you alone.” But he has to!

“Go away. To safe. To –” Why can’t he talk right? Sans won’t listen if he can’t say it right! Nothing’s working and he can’t think.

“To safe? Do you think I’m in danger?” Yes! “I’m not in danger in my own home. Do you know that we’re home?” Sure, but it’s her home too, so how does it being home make it safe?

“Not safe.” Why is he sticking around like this? Muffet isn’t done. She could be back any minute. Sans isn’t even supposed to see him like this, let alone be here when it happens.

“It certainly is safe! We lock our doors and everything! Usually. Probably more than we need to on the surface, although I suppose there’s always the chance of someone with an old grudge or a human coming around to make trouble.” What? A human? And wait, the surface?

“Surface?” That can’t be the surface it sounds like it is. He’d know.

“Yes? You do know we’re on the surface, don’t you?” That… is shocking enough to break through the panic and focus his mind. Sans thinks they’re on the surface?

“Guess not. Am I s’posed ta know that?”

“Considering how long we’ve been here, I would think so.”

“Huh.” Getting Sans away from Muffet is more important, but this stuff about the surface is just so weird. And it’s almost like he’s had these same thoughts before…

“Is this… our house?”

“Of course. Did you forget that too?”

“Our house on the surface?”

“Yes. Everyone lives on the surface now, and it’s much nicer than underground. Did you really forget all of it? That’s really concerning.”

Never mind that. “And no one else lives here?”

“No one but us. Cash stayed here for a while, but he lives alone now.”

“Cash. I know him.” Memories are slowly clicking into place. “And yer Blackberry, now, cause there’s lotsa Sanses?”

“That’s right. Are you starting to remember?”

“Think so. We live on the surface? Got our own house an’ everythin’?”

“Of course. We’ve had our own house for years, ever since, well, do you remember why we left Muffet?”

“Yeah.” Those memories do _not_ need any help waking up, considering the way they keep taking over even when he forgets everything that happened before and after them.

“Do you remember the LV treatment?” Thank the stars, a change of subject. Also, the LV treatment!

“Yeah! Bro, it’s meltin’ away my LV! Didja know that?”

“Melting seems about right. You’re a mess.”

“Yeah, an’ I think I’ve had this conversation before. Lotsa times. How many times have I fergot everythin’?”

“I have no idea. I only just learned about it, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I remember. That’s real annoyin’. Fergettin’ everythin’, I mean. Think I’ve said that before, too. Seems like all I do is repeat myself.”

“That’s alright. I’m just so happy that you’re ok. I was really worried about you.” Shit, that brings up a new problem.

“What’d I do?” Please nothing bad. Please nothing that put Blackberry in an awkward situation, or brought back bad memories for him, or that would give him an even worse opinion of the slut he already thinks Twist is.

“Nothing bad! At least nothing bad from your end. You were mostly really confused. And scared of me, which was awful, but not your fault at all.”

“Oh. That’s not so bad, then.” There’s no way Blackberry would be so calm about it if Twist had actually acted on what he thought was happening. He must have managed to keep it to himself.

“It seemed pretty bad to me. Brother, what was that? Do you even remember?”

“Yeah, but don’ worry ‘bout it. I was jus’ confused, like ya said.”

“But you were so scared! You begged me not to put you back in a trunk. Why would you think I’d put you in a trunk?”

“Dunno. Weird what the mind comes up with, ain’t it bro?”

“Your mind didn’t make that up. You begged me not to put you ‘back in the trunk.’ That doesn’t just come out of nowhere. When has someone put you in a trunk?”

“I dunno. I got in all kinds of trouble with the other gangs back then. Who knows who I pissed off, or when, or why I’m remembrin’ it now. Can’t have been a big deal or I’d have more of a story ta tell.” And it’s sure not worth a story, not even worth remembering. If only he really could forget it.

“It stands out enough for you to have nightmares about it. Or flashbacks, I suppose, since you were awake for most of it. Kind of.”

“Dunno what ta tell ya, bro. Must not a been a big deal.” Just drop it. Just fucking drop it, because he can’t deal with this right now. He can’t.

“Does it have anything to do with why you have claustrophobia?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Who gives a shit? I’m fine now.”

“You’re not fine. You’re clearly still affected, and if that’s where the claustrophobia came from then I don’t think it had anything to do with rival gangs. I think it’s from-”

“Just drop it!” he snarls, sending Blackberry scrambling back in shock.

“Bro, I’m sorry.” There are tears in his brother’s eyes. Oh, fuck, this was never supposed to touch him. He was never supposed to even suspect that anything was wrong. Twist got too complacent. He can hide his problems better than this, but he hasn’t been. Blackberry shouldn’t even know he’s scared of small spaces, or about the apples, or any of the other shit he’s picked up over the years that show what a fucked-up wreck his big brother is. And now Twist is yelling at him just for asking a few questions about things he shouldn’t have known in the first place. “I’m so sorry. None of this is yer fault. C’mere an’ let me hug ya.”

“You don’t need to take care of me. I’m taking care of you. I’m not doing it very well, but it’s what I’m trying to do, and I could do it so much better if you would just let me know what’s wrong.”

Twist sighs. “Yeah, been hearin’ that a lot, lately. Look, darlin, ya know some things jus’ ain’t that easy ta talk about.”

“I know, but what if talking makes it better?”

“What if it makes it worse? An’ what if it puts a whole lotta shit on you that ya don’ need ta deal with on top of yer own?”

“But what if I want to help you deal with it?”

“Still not yer job.”

“It’s not about it being anyone’s job! You help people all the time without it being your job. You just do it because you care! Too much, sometimes, but you know I care about you, so why won’t you let me help you?”

“Some things ain’t so easy ta help with. Sides, I think yer thinkin’ things are worse than they are. Ya gotta remember, most of what yer seein’ is just from the LV treatment. Ya don’ see me breakin’ down every few hours normally, do ya?”

“I don’t think it’s just making things up out of nowhere.”

“Sometimes it does. Sometimes it makes me see things that never happened an’ probly never will.”

“Maybe sometimes, but I think some of it is real. You think I’m ignoring the LV problem? Well I think you’re ignoring a lot of other problems. I’m not going to make you talk about them right now because I think it’s more important to get you off the floor and let you sleep, but please don’t lie to me about them.”

“Ok, bro. I ain’t promisin’ ta tell ya anythin’ in particular, but I’ll try not ta lie about it.”

“That’s all I want.” That certainly is not all Blackberry wants, but Twist isn’t going to argue his way out of this truce.

“Now can I get that hug? Ya kinda left me hangin’.”

“I don’t need a hug. I’m fine.” Bullshit.

“Could sure use one, myself.” Which is also true, even if it’s not why he’s doing it.

“Oh, I didn’t even think about that! I’m sorry, brother.” So of course, Blackberry proceeds to fling himself right at Twist’s ribcage. 

Twist’s teeth clench as his ribs bend and all the air is knocked out of his chest. “Shit!” Sockets shut tight, he grits out, “Bro. Ya gotta watch the ribs. I want a hug but they don’t.”

“Oh, stars, I keep doing that! I’m so sorry, and I keep having to say that too. I’m never going to get the hang of taking care of you at this rate.”

Forcing himself to inhale, Twist brings a hand up to scratch Blackberry’s coronal suture. “Nah, bro, ‘s ok. Yer doin’ just fine. Jus’ remember I’m a little more breakable than normal.”

“I’ll remember. I promise. Now let’s get you back in bed.”

“Ok.” Twist braces himself to be picked up as Blackberry pulls away from the hug and crouches beside him. He’d almost rather stay on the floor, but there’s no way he’s getting away with that.

Blackberry starts to put an arm underneath him, then pauses. “Brother?”

“Yeah?”

“Why has no one been healing you?”

“Dunno. No one’s explained it and I never thought ta ask. And before ya get on me ‘bout not takin’ care of myself, I’ve kinda had a lot goin’ on. Some bruises or whatever ya wanna heal don’ seem like that big a deal in comparison, an’ anyway, Iggy’s always had a reason when there’s somethin’ she won’t do fer me.”

“What, like how not wanting to bother staying with you to keep you in bed was a reason to tie you to the bed? I’m sure it was too difficult to work in her lab while keeping an eye on you or maybe put some rails on the sides.”

“So maybe it ain’t always a good reason, but there’s always some kinda reason.”

“Or maybe she just didn’t think it was important enough if it was just to make you more comfortable. I want to try it.”

“Nah, I’d rather not. Thanks fer worryin’ ‘bout me, little bro, but no. I don’ wanna take the chance.”

“But it would make you feel so much better! If I did it now, I wouldn’t even hurt you so much by picking you up.”

“Or it could make it worse.”

“But it probably wouldn’t.”

“We got no way of knowin’ that, an’ the things you could heal ain’t botherin’ me enough ta try. Ya don’t know what happens when somethin’ screws around with my magic.”

“I could just try a little bit and see how it goes. I’ll stop right away if something goes wrong.”

“I said no.”

“But Papy-”

“No.”

“Alright, we’ll talk about it later.” The answer won’t be different later! “Now let’s get you into bed.” It’s too hard to keep arguing. Besides, Blackberry means well. He just wants to take care of Twist. He’s just not good at seeing why Twist might make a different decision than he did, sometimes, or that Twist doesn’t just pull his decisions out of his ass. Well, maybe sometimes he pulls his decisions out of his ass, but not about important things.

Being picked up is as painful as it always is after hitting the floor, and it’s worse with someone so much shorter than him. Blackberry has to nearly fold him in half to hold him properly, and ends up using the uneven layers of the disheveled bed frame and mattresses as steps to lift Twist high enough to settle him safely in the middle of the bed. Twist doesn’t complain, but does let a little of his discomfort show in light of their earlier conversation. And maybe because he couldn’t hide it if he tried.

Blackberry scoots the bed back against the wall after settling Twist in it, then rushes through the house in search of barricades to put in front of the bed’s legs to reduce the chance of it moving again. Then he refills Twist’s water bottle, gets Twist to drink some of it, refills it again, and refreshes the ice water for the washcloths, just in case.

With all possible tasks completed, Blackberry settles into the chair next to Twist’s bed. Twist is just starting to drift off when Blackberry speaks again, hesitantly this time.

“Papy? Why did you think I would put you in a trunk? Or hurt you at all?”

Twist groans. “Bro, we’ve talked about this. I really can’t do it again right now.”

“No, I mean, not about the trunk. Why did you think I would hurt you?”

“Wasn’t you. I mean, I didn’t know it was you.”

“Did you think I was…” They both know who he means.

“Yeah. Sorry, bro. Toldja, I’m real fucked up.”

“That’s… I know. I just didn’t realize…”

“I’m jus’ glad it wasn’t worse.”

“How could it be worse than you thinking I was Muffet?”

“Not worse than that. Jus’ glad I didn’ do anythin’ too bad.”

“Bad like what? You wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. Or, not on purpose, but I guess if you thought I was her, you might think you were defending yourself? I wouldn’t blame you for that. I wish you’d done it back when it was really her.” Shit, that’s so not what he needs to hear right now. And it’s not relevant.

“Hurtin’ ya ain’t the only thing I’m worried ‘bout. Look, bro… ya know… I mean, ya gotta realize…” but he can’t do it. He can’t bring himself to actually admit the way he keeps acting whenever he thinks someone is Muffet. It was bad enough with Cash, who didn’t react much except for a few inconvenient questions. That was mostly just completely embarrassing, but still pretty easy to bury back deep in his skull. It was completely terrifying with Iggy, and pissed her off, but she was already fed up with him and she at least had some idea why he was doing it. Doing that to Blackberry would be a whole different story.

“What are you trying to tell me? What else are you so afraid of?” 

“I keep thinkin’ people who are with me are her. And I keep thinkin’ they’re doin’ whatever I remember her doin’, so I try ta do what she wants me ta do.” C’mon, bro, read between the lines. Please.

“What, like jobs and things? Working for the gang?” He’s so fucking innocent. Not always, but somehow he’s always been so fucking innocent about this. But he has to have guessed something.

“What kinda shape ‘m I in fer doin’ jobs? Might happen when I’m dreamin’, but when I’m awake I c’n tell I can’t get up, even when I ferget everythin’ else.”

“Then what does she have you do?” He shouldn’t be this innocent. It doesn’t make sense. As much as Twist tried to keep him that way forever, Blackberry was a sweetpiece, which is the biggest failure of Twist’s life, so how can he be this oblivious? <strike>Unless he just can’t imagine how his big brother could be so weak and stupid.</strike>

“Look, just… if I do somethin’ that bothers ya, leave. Don’ try ta figure it out, jus’ leave. Worst I’ll do is fall outta bed an’ you c’n pick me up when it’s over.”

“I will not leave you. How many times do I need to say it before you believe me?”

“Please, bro. I’d hate ta… I can’t… I jus’ don’ wanna hurt ya. Or scare ya, or freak ya out, or-”

“Papy. Brother. Listen to me. There is nothing you could do that would upset me enough to make me leave you alone when I know you’re hurting. Nothing. Maybe I will get upset. I was certainly upset when you thought I was going to lock you in a trunk, but that didn’t make me want to leave. I want to take care of you. Maybe I won’t always know how to help, but I’m still going to be here trying because you’re my brother and I love you. Do you understand?” 

That’s… That’s just… Twist has the best brother. Through a throat so tight he can barely speak, he whispers, “love ya too, bro.” This still doesn’t solve the problem, but how can he keep trying to explain after all that? Especially since he can’t bring himself to say it.

Gently, Blackberry suggests, “why don’t you try to get some more sleep?” 

“Ok.”

“Do you want another blanket?”

“Yeah. I’ll try not ta shred this one.”

“If you do, I’ll just get you another one. You getting better is more important than the blankets.”

“Ya know I’m not gettin’ better soon, right? There’s still a long way ta go, an’ it won’t get easier. Ya know that, right?”

“I know,” Blackberry murmurs as he tucks the blanket around Twist and turns down the light. “I wish it wasn’t happening, or that it was already over with, but as long as you’re in it, I’m in it.”

“I jus’ don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”

“I know. You’ve told me several times, and my answer is always the same. I won’t get hurt. I don’t know what you’re so afraid of, but I know you’re not going to hurt me and I’m not going to leave. Now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“What if I wake up like that again?”

“Then we’ll deal with it. Hopefully, I’ll do better than I did this time.”

“Ya did great.”

“I got a towel stuck to your eye, scared you into falling off the bed, dumped you on the floor, and let you think I was going to lock you in a trunk. I wouldn’t call that a resounding success.”

“Well when ya put it that way…” Twist can’t help but smile. Maybe the flashback could have gone better, but talking to his brother is the best possible way to get over it. “Look, this shit’s hard ta deal with. No one knows what they’re doin’ an’ the smallest thing can turn inta a big disaster. Don’ mean yer not doin’ a good job. I had ta have this same talk with Cash after one a those flashback things. I appreciate anythin’ ya figure out how ta fix, but yer not gonna fix everythin’. ‘s just nice ta have ya here.”

“I’m still going to try to fix things.”

“Yeah. Ok. Thanks.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I’ll try.” It’s made a lot easier by a return of the projections of /love/comfort/protection/hope/. Even if he can’t stay asleep for long, it looks like going back to sleep won’t be a problem with Blackberry around. With projections soothing his agitated soul on both a physical and metaphorical level, Twist drifts off to sleep.

***  
Blackberry lets the projections fade when Twist falls asleep, but he remains vigilant. Anticipating a long night, he retrieves a book from his room and settles into the chair by Twist’s bed. This time, as soon as Twist makes the slightest movement, he starts projecting again. Soon, Twist calms, so he returns to his book, waiting for the next sign that his brother needs him. That last nightmare was terrible and Twist is obviously afraid of more, but it’s not going to happen again. Twist will get a good night’s sleep if Blackberry has to keep projecting all night, because he loves his brother and it’s the least he can do.


	17. Chapter 17

Twist wakes to the morning light gently creeping across the room. His sockets drift open to watch it, and he smiles as he sees it illuminating his little brother’s face. Blackberry has a book in his lap but is slumped over the arm of the chair, where he has fallen asleep. At least he didn’t stay up all night.

Not wanting to wake him but wanting a drink, Twist looks around for his water bottle. Ah hah! There it is on the nightstand. It’s almost within reach if he stretches. Just a little farther… No, too far.

Undeterred, he takes a moment to analyze the situation. He needs to get closer to the nightstand. Can he do that? He hasn’t moved much on his own since the treatment started a week ago. Trying usually doesn’t go too well, but everything just feels so good this morning. It must be possible. Besides, he sure can move when he’s panicking; just look at what he did last night actually don’t because this is a good morning and that would ruin it so he should be able to do it when he’s relaxed. He doesn’t even need to fling himself across the bed, just scoot a little closer to one side. Totally doable.

He’s lying flat on his back. The water bottle is maybe six inches from the farthest his left hand can reach. He’s feeling good this morning; well-rested, not freaking out about anything, nothing beyond minor aches in his soul and bones. It can’t be that hard to move six inches. Just scoot sideways, that seems easy enough.

It’s not. Who’d have thought so much coordination was involved in scooting across the bed? His first attempt moves his head in the direction he wants to go, but his shoulders stay firmly where they are. Why is this so hard? His bones barely hurt, but there’s just no strength in them and they’re not doing what he tells them. The next attempt gets him claw marks in his night stand where he tried to grab it to pull himself closer. No luck; his arms are not going to pull around his body weight. The third attempt knocks the breath out of him when he halfway succeeds at sitting up before being abruptly reminded that his arms won’t stand up against gravity, either. This isn’t working.

No closer to his destination, he glares at his target. It’s not that far. There’s no reason to wake Blackberry up to get something that’s barely a foot away. Groaning, he realizes that that’s farther away than when he started, which means all he’s managed to do is make the job harder. “Fuck”. Not a good start.

“‘m gonna getcha,” he mutters, refusing to be defeated by distance and gravity. Scooting isn’t working. “Ok, new plan.” Gathering all of his strength, he gets his right arm underneath him, braces it against the bed, and pushes. The strain of putting all of his weight on just a few joints draws a whimper from him, but slowly, the right side of his ribcage lifts from the bed and his lower body follows. Yes! It’s working!

No, shit, it worked too well! He flails to catch himself as he nearly rolls off the bed. The goal was to roll onto his side to give himself a better range of movement, not to land face down on the edge of the bed with one leg dangling over the side. Sighing into the pillow, he glances over at his still sleeping brother. Maybe this was a bad idea. He thought he was feeling better, but apparently it’s too much to even pick up a water bottle. Now Blackberry’s going to wake up and find him falling off the bed with his face trapped in a pillow. Great.

This is beyond frustrating. Never mind the pain and the memories, it’s the sheer helplessness that’s really getting to him. A week ago he could have gone toe to toe with almost any monster in the underground. Now he’s consistently losing fights against gravity. The water is right there! It’s within arm’s reach now, but how’s he supposed to reach out and take it? Shift around trying to grab it and fall out of bed again? That’s definitely what’s going to happen if he leans over any farther.

It’s pathetic, really, lying here waiting for his brother to come save him by rolling him back into bed. He knows he shouldn’t complain. Of course he shouldn’t. This is so much better than where he woke up yesterday morning. If he’d done this with Iggy, she probably would have tied the rest of him to the bed so he couldn’t keep causing these problems. Blackberry will just rescue him while gently chiding him about doing dangerous things like, like rolling over in his own fucking bed. While getting further convinced that Twist can’t be left alone for a single damn minute, of course.

“This is ridiculous,” Twist growls. “Jus’ ‘cause nothin’s workin’ right don’t mean I can’t pick up a fucking water bottle.” He’s made his body work when it shouldn’t before. Actually, didn’t he walk across the lab with Iggy not that long ago? Yesterday, holy shit, that was only yesterday. And it hurt like knives in his joints, but he did it, so what’s different now? This shouldn’t be so hard.

This is an easier task than that was. It’s easier than a lot of things he’s had to make his body do when it was broken. It barely even hurts; his body just isn’t cooperating. So what does he do when he can’t count on his body to move the way it’s supposed to? Other than push through with sheer determination. While that’s great for working through pain, it’s not going to put any strength back in his limbs. Pain is only a minor consideration, here. More important is figuring out what he can do and what he can’t do.

What he can’t do is scoot over, lift his body off the bed, or reach over without tipping himself over the side. so pretty much anything requiring strength or coordination. What he can do is small, individual movements that don’t require much energy or having much sense of where any of his limbs are. So basically, move the whole thing by moving a bunch of connected but uncoordinated parts. That’s doable. Think mechanics. Think center of gravity. His whole body doesn’t need to move away from the edge, just enough of it that shifting his weight won’t move his center of gravity over the edge. So what’s pulling him over the edge?

That leg dangling over the side sure isn’t helping. Get that back on the bed and he might be safe, or at least have enough leverage to move the rest of him. Great, a plan. Only problem it, it’s also fucking heavy. It takes three tries to get his leg up on the bed, ultimately hooking it around the other one and pushing against the bed with all the strength in his arms to keep himself from tumbling over the side, but he makes it. With both legs on the bed, it’s easy to reach out with both arms and pull the water bottle to his chest.

“Hah! Gotcha.” He grins at his victory and chuckles at what currently counts as a victory. Whatever, he’ll take what he can get.

Blackberry startles awake at the noise and immediately starts projecting /love/comfort/protection/hope/worry. That last one is probably unintentional. “Brother! Oh, no, I’m sorry, you’ll be okay, just calm down, it’s just a dream, it’s alright –”

“Woah, woah, bro, I’m okay.” He takes a deep gulp from the water bottle, then lays his head back on the pillow, relaxing into the projections.

“You’re ok? Oh, you’re awake! Did a nightmare wake you up? Wait, do you know you’re talking to me or do you think it’s someone else? It’s Blackberry, Sans, your little brother Sans, and we’re in our house on the surface and Muffet isn’t here and we don’t work for her anymore and we’re both safe –”

“Bro! I know where we are. I’m fine.”

“Oh, thank the stars.” He lets the projections fade. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep. I tried to keep your nightmares away but I must have drifted off at some point, which is completely inexcusable and I’m so sorry if that’s what woke you up but I’m awake now so you can go back to sleep and I’ll keep the dreams away. I promise I’ll do better this time –”

“Hey, take a breath.” Blackberry pauses to breathe. “That’s better. Now just calm down. I didn’t wake up from a nightmare. I woke up ‘cause it’s mornin’ an’ I got plenty of sleep. See, the sun’s up.”

Blackberry blinks at the light coming in from the window. “Oh. I guess it is.”

“Yeah. I’m done sleepin’. Mornin’, little bro.” Twist grins.

“Good morning, brother,” Blackberry replies automatically, before furrowing his brow bones. “You didn’t have nightmares?”

“No clue. If I did, I don’ remember ‘em, so I’m not too concerned.”

“Oh. And you got enough sleep?”

“Yeah, plenty. More’n I’ve had fer awhile.”

Blackberry nods decisively. “Good, then it’s working.”

“What’s workin’?”

“The projections. I’ve been projecting at you anytime it looked like a nightmare was starting, and it made them go away. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Aw, little bro, ya don’ gotta do that. I can handle a few bad dreams.”

“Well there’s no reason you should have to, not when there’s something I can do about it.”

“And ya thought I was dreamin’ when ya woke up?”

“Well you’re not exactly in a normal sleeping position, and it works better if I catch them early, so I got in the habit of doing it whenever it seemed like one might be starting. I’d rather do that than miss one. I should be able to keep all of your nightmares away that way so you can sleep.” Aw, his little bro is just so sweet. He’s the best brother ever. There’s just a little problem with his plan, though.

“Plannin’ ta keep projectin’ at me every time I move every night? That don’ seem all that sustainable.”

“Just until you stop having so many nightmares.”

“Uh, bro? How long are ya thinkin’ that’s gonna be?”

“Oh, I know we don’t know how long they’ll continue, but I think I can keep going for quite a while. Projecting doesn’t take too much effort.” That still doesn’t address the biggest problem with that plan.

“When are ya plannin’ ta sleep?”

“I can nap!”

“When?”

“I’ll find the time.”

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“Enough. You were pretty restless early in the night, but you calmed down after a while so I must have fallen asleep after that. I’m so sorry. Do you really think you didn’t have any more bad dreams?”

“If I did, I don’t remember. Bro, ya can’t just stay up with me all night. Ya gotta sleep.”

“I told you, I’ll nap.”

“When?”

“When we have some downtime. Now, why are you trying to drink with your face smushed into a pillow?” Of course he has to ask about that. Twist sighs.

“Too much work ta turn back over.”

“How did you get like that in the first place?”

“Easiest way ta get a drink?”

“And how would that be the easiest way to get a drink, exactly?”

“‘Cause none of the other ways worked.”

“How many ways are there?”

“More’n ya’d think, and most of them are useless. Kinda wore myself out, so ya mind helpin’ me turn back over?”

“Of course! Or, I mean, of course I don’t mind. Here, you just hold onto you water and I’ll get you settled in properly.” He rolls Twist over more carefully than necessary and settles his skull in the middle of the pillow. Twist appreciates the sentiment, even if he is a little concerned that Blackberry might have gotten the impression that he needs to be treated like glass. It’s hardly a priority, though.

“Thanks, bro. Mind gettin’ me another pillow or two? ‘s not much easier ta drink flat on my back than flat on my front.”

“Certainly.” After stuffing two more pillows behind Twist, he sits back down in the chair.

Drinking still isn’t as easy as it should be. Twist’s hands are shaking. He watches them, perplexed. “Wonder why they’re doin’ that?”

Blackberry watches them too. “I don’t know. Do they hurt?”

“Nah, just tired. Nothin’ wants ta do what I tell it today. ‘s like all my energy’s gone.”

“Are you sure you got enough sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you wear yourself out getting the water?”

“Maybe, but nothin’ was workin’ too great even when I first woke up. I thought the water’d be pretty easy ta get ‘cause I was feelin’ so good after all that sleep, but I could hardly move.”

“That’s very strange. How does your soul feel?”

“Same as ever. I think? Hard ta tell. Kinda burns, a little? Not like when some node’s dissolvin’ or anythin’ like that, just… Oh.” He snorts at his own stupidity. “Hey, bro, mind gettin’ me some breakfast?” That’s just embarrassing.

“Of course, but what does that have to do with what we were discussing?”

“Probly has everythin’ ta do with it, considerin’ I ain’t eaten since right after Cash brought me here, an’ I’m pretty sure what I’m feelin’ is my body yellin’ at me fer not feedin’ it when I’m burnin’ through all this energy.” Which should have been obvious.

“You mean you’re starving and you didn’t notice?”

“Wouldn’t say I’m starvin’.”

Both browbones raised, Blackberry reiterates, “your hands are shaking.”

“Yeah, yeah, so maybe I’m a little starvin’. Hard ta tell. Jus’ go make me a smoothie. Ya know where the instructions are?”

“On the kitchen counter. Will you be alright if I’m gone for a few minutes?”

“Yeah. When Cash had ta leave me alone, he piled up some blankets along the edge of the bed ta make it harder fer me ta fall out.” It feels a little like being a babybones in a crib, but he doesn’t fancy hitting the floor at the moment.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.” Blackberry lines the bed with blankets, then rushes downstairs while Twist sips his water.

***

“I can’t believe I let him get so hungry,” Blackberry mutters as he enters the kitchen. “I should have thought of breakfast first thing. Or dinner, for that matter.” Twist said he ate after Cash brought him home, but when was that? Surely not recently enough.

The smoothie ingredients sit together on a counter, along with a small recipe card. Reading the card, Blackberry scowls. “That hardly counts as a recipe.” It’s just measurements for the different powders and instructions to pour them in a cup and mix them with water. “And that hardly counts as a smoothie.” How can a slurry of rehydrated powders be the best thing for Twist to eat? These so-called ‘ingredients’ need some investigation.

He tastes the protein powder first. It’s just a basic protein powder, as unappetizing as any other. It’s nothing he would normally cook with, but it might be a useful supplement for someone who can’t eat any natural protein sources. Can Twist have any natural protein sources? That’s something to look into later. He spoons a small amount into a glass of water. Not particularly soluble, either. It’s not the type he’d choose for this mixture. Other ingredients might mask it, but there aren’t many other ingredients in the recipe. So far, he’s not impressed.

Then he tastes the other main powder, which is labeled by calorie content but not by ingredients. It’s almost… oily as it dissolves in his mouth. Ew. And the taste – He shudders. The taste is… well, fatty, but not any kind of fat he’d cook with. And it’s sort of sweet, but in a sickly, cloying way that even the most ardent sugar lover couldn’t enjoy. Twist must hate it. Cringing, he swishes it around in his mouth. There’s definitely some kind of significant carbohydrate component, but again, nothing like the carbohydrates in any normal kind of food.

It’s like someone took whatever calorie sources they could think of, extracted only the highest calorie components, and mixed them all together into the strangest powder he’s ever tasted. He loves high calorie treats as much as anyone, but this is disgusting. What’s the point? It could be fed to someone who wouldn’t eat much but still needed a lot of calories, but wouldn’t that person then eat less because of the taste and texture, resulting in fewer calories actually being consumed? It seems very counterproductive.

The third component is some kind of vitamin and mineral supplement. It’s not clear what the vitamins or minerals are, but it’s always better to use supplements as supplements, not as the primary source of nutrition. But that would require including foods that naturally contain those nutrients, like fruits and vegetables, which this ‘recipe’ does not have.

What else is there? An extra calcium supplement? That’s a thoughtful addition to make an otherwise standardized nutrition mixture more appropriate for a skeleton, but wouldn’t it be better to just use high calcium milk in place of the water? Even if more calcium needs to be added, it would be absorbed better if it was dissolved in milk. And whole milk could be used to increase the calorie content, too.

The whole thing seems designed by someone who technically knows the main components of nutrition but understands nothing about nutritional science or food preparation. It should keep someone alive but can’t be nearly as healthy as normal food, and of course it’s completely unappetizing. And then, of course, there’s the care put in by the chef, which is completely absent from such an artificial method of preparation.This can’t possibly be the best thing for Twist to drink. A multitude of possible improvements runs through Blackberry’s mind. But Twist’s health is so fragile right now, and what if Blackberry is wrong? What if there’s something he’s missing? He’d hate to unintentionally hurt Twist by ignoring instructions that turn out to be important.

Maybe he’d better make one and sample it first. Maybe it’s not so bad. He measures out the powders and mixes in the water as per the instructions, then takes a sip of the resulting mixture. He gags. Twist has been drinking this? How? This is completely unacceptable. But why would Iggy feed him this if it wasn’t necessary? Just to be cruel? Indifference is also a possibility. Maybe Twist can’t eat normal food and this is easier than developing a modified diet? Maybe she doesn’t know enough about cooking to develop a modified diet.

Maybe Twist knows the answer. He’d better, because Blackberry would be failing in his duty as a brother and as a chef if he fed his brother this repugnant concoction. It’s about time to check on him, anyway. Realizing how long he’s been gone, he rushes upstairs with the mixture that he refuses to think of as a smoothie.

He’s ranting before he even walks through the door. “Why is this like this? You’re not eating this.”

“Huh?” Twist blinks at him in confusion, still holding his water bottle.

“What is this, this abomination of a drink?”

“Uh… breakfast?” Does he really not see the problem with this? Oh, his poor brother! Look at what’s become of him without Blackberry around to feed him properly.

“Papy, this is disgusting. Why does she make you drink this? Why did you agree to drink this?”

Twist shrugs. “Ain’t my favorite, but there’s not much else I can eat, bro.”

“But you can eat this?”

“Yeah? It keeps my HP up and don’ make me sick. I can’t eat anythin’ solid an’ I burn through magic like nothin’ you’ve ever seen, so this’s what I’ve got.”

“Are there no alternatives? I don’t see anything in the ingredients that you couldn’t get from a real, properly made nutritional shake or home made meal of any kind.”

“Dunno. She put fruit in it fer a while, and that wasn’t too bad, but,” Twist winces, “we had some problems with that so she stopped.”

Blackberry shakes his head in disgust. “I’m not feeding you this. I’ll come up with something better.”

“Not sure that’s the best idea. Look, the taste ain’t great, but I can eat it an’ it hasn’t caused any problems. Kinda worried ‘bout changin’ it.”

“I don’t think there’s anything special about any of the ingredients. I tasted them, and if anything, they’re less healthy because they’re oversimplified versions of regular foods. Not in the way that they would be if you actually needed such an artificial diet, more like someone just wanted an easy way to store large amounts of basic nutrients. I’m convinced that it’s more for convenience than anything.”

“Ya really don’t think it’s gotta be that way?”

“I’m certain of it. If I had any doubts, the fact that she used to put fruit in them has convinced me. The problems with the fruit weren’t nutritional, were they?”

“Nope, nothin’ ta do with that.” Why is he wincing again? That’s worth following up on, but right now the goal is to get Twist some edible breakfast.

“Then I see no reason why you can’t have something better.”

“‘s gotta be some kinda smoothie. Not s’posed ta eat anythin’ I gotta chew or that could have chunks in it.” Despite the caution, he sounds a little hopeful. He’s right to be hopeful! Blackberry is up to the challenge!

“A high calorie smoothie with protein and no chunks. That’s easy enough to make. I can even blend in the supplements without letting them overpower the whole drink. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll have it ready. Can you wait that long?”

“Not goin’ anywhere, am I? Have at it, bro. Anythin’d be better ‘n this, long as I can eat it.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Five minutes later, he makes his way back up the stairs with a fresh water bottle containing a smoothie that he would be willing to serve to someone in a pinch. It’s not his best work, but it should do for now.

Twist is slumped against the pillows, water bottle abandoned by his side. Oh, please, let this one be drinkable! His poor brother is so low on energy, it’s unbearable. “Here, brother, try this.”

Twist accepts the drink gratefully, but with hands that are even shakier than before. “Thanks, bro.” He takes a sip. “Bro! This’s amazin’!” He quickly slurps down half the bottle.

“It’s not my best work, but I didn’t want to take too long so I stuck to the basics.”

“Best thing I ever tasted!”

Twist’s enthusiasm makes Blackberry smile. “I’m glad you like it. There’s room for improvement, but that can wait until there’s more time to work on it.”

“Sure, bro, but seriously, this is the best.” He continues drinking, while Blackberry watches for any signs of ill effects. He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble absorbing it, and, oh! His hands have stopped shaking!

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks while taking the empty bottle.

“Yeah, ‘m feelin’ great! Best I’ve felt since this whole thing started. Amazin’ what a good meal an’ a good night’s sleep can do, huh, bro?”

“I’m so glad. Now, what else can I do for you? Would you like to sleep more?”

“Nah, tired of sleepin’. Tired of layin’ in bed, really, but I don’ think I’m up fer walkin’ around the house.”

“That seems like a bad idea,” Blackberry agrees. “And impossible.”

“Right. So, got any ideas fer what I can do? Guess it’s a good sign that I’m feelin’ good enough ta get bored, but it ain’t much fun.”

“Would you like a book to read?”

“Maybe? Bring me one, wouldja?”

Blackberry pulls one of Twist’s favorites off the shelf. “How about this one?”

“Sure, give it here.” Twist accepts the book with a smile, but it soon shifts to a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Twist sighs as he sets the book in his lap and closes his eyesockets. “Can’t see the words.”

“You can’t see?!” Oh no, oh no, what if he’s going blind? What if the treatment damaged the pathways that connect to vision, or something? Blackberry doesn’t know how that all works, but it can happen. Monsters have gone blind before because of something happening to their magic, especially non-fleshy monsters who rely on magic for so much. What will they do if Twist goes blind? That would be devastating, absolutely –

“Bro! Calm down. It’s ok. I can see. Everthin’s just a little blurry, so I can’t see well enough ta read.”

“But what if it’s a sign that your eyes are damaged? Has it been like that the whole time, or is it getting worse?”

“It’s not gettin’ worse! My vision’s been doin’ weird things the whole time. It’s not always the same, but it comes and goes an’ this ain’t any worse than it’s been. I just haven’t tried ta read before.” That’s not as bad as it could be, although it still isn’t good. But if Twist doesn’t want to freak out about it, Blackberry will try not to either. He’ll try.

“Oh. Well as long as it’s not getting worse and you can still see. You’re sure it’s not getting worse?”

“I’m sure. It’s nothin’ ta worry ‘bout; readin’s just not gonna be the best way ta keep myself busy fer awhile.”

“Alright. If you’re sure.” Blackberry takes the book back to the shelf, glancing surreptitiously back at his brother.

“Sure hope none of it’s permanent,” Twist mutters under his breath, but Blackberry can still hear him.

“Do you think it might be?”

“What? Nah, course not. ‘s all temporary. Iggy said so an’ everythin’.”

“How do you know she was telling the truth?”

“‘Cause she wasn’t tryna trick me. Look, she mighta undersold the problems a little, but she didn’t outright lie ‘bout anythin’.”

“What if she didn’t know about it? Cash said the treatment has never been tested on anyone with such high LV before.”

“Then we’ll deal with it when it happens.”

“Papy! You can’t just let yourself go blind, or be bedbound forever, or –”

“Not ‘lettin’’ myself do anythin’. Look, bro, I’m almost completely sure I’m gonna be fine. Everythin’ I know ‘bout this says I will. On the tiny chance I won’t be, we’ll deal with it. I know I can count on you, and anything’d be better than havin’ all that LV sittin’ around waitin’ ta get me.”

It all comes back to the LV, doesn’t it? Well, of course it does, because that’s what this is all about, but he’s just not used to Twist talking about it so plainly. Probably because Blackberry usually refuses to discuss it, he acknowledges guiltily, and doesn’t that just make him a terrible excuse for a brother? “You really were worried about it, weren’t you?”

“More’n worried. I knew it was gonna get me, and so did you. I got real used ta livin’ with a tickin’ time bomb in my head, an’ now it’s gone, so I’m really not too worried ‘bout the tiny chance that somethin’ might go wrong from this. I’m not gonna die, an’ we can deal with anythin’ else. Right?” There’s just a tiny bit of hesitation in his voice, like he’s not quite sure about part of that, and Blackberry has the sinking suspicion that he might be part of that hesitation. Is Twist actually worried that Blackberry won’t help? Is it… is it because he won’t deal with the LV being a problem? Has he really made his brother think that he can’t even count on him to get him through this, that it’s not safe to share how he’s feeling? No! He’s not letting that happen.

“Of… of course! Of course we can deal with it. We can do anything, as long as we’re together!” And he means it! Even if it means discussing some terribly uncomfortable subjects. Twist should never have to hesitate when he talks about them getting through something together.

“That’s right, bro.” Twist sounds more confident now. “And what’ve I got ta worry ‘bout with the Sensational Sans ta take care of me?”

“Sansational, even, and of course, you’re right!” They both grin at the old pun. “I’ll take care of you, and you’ll get completely better, and your LV will be gone, and we won’t have to worry about any of this ever again. Right?” He can’t help but let a little hesitation of his own slip through, but the determination is genuine.

“Right! We got it covered, bro. Now how ‘bout we see if there’re any games I can play? Sittin’ in this bed all day every day doin’ nothin’s not gonna work fer me.”

“Certainly! How about cards? Do you think you can play cards?”

“Worth a try. Bring up a deck and we’ll see.”

Mood somehow both lowered and lifted, Blackberry races downstairs to get some cards, taking both water bottles with him as he goes. He rinses the one with the smoothie in the sink and sets it in the drying rack, and refills the other one with fresh, cold water. Then he grabs a deck of cards and rushes back upstairs.

“The numbers on this one are bigger than the others, so I thought it might be easier… Papy?”

Twist is curled up on his side, clutching his ribcage, sockets clenched shut. Dropping the cards, Blackberry races to his side. “Brother?”

“Think… mmmm…” he whimpers, “think cards are gonna haveta wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

Sweat is beading on Twist’s skull and ribs, and he’s panting. “‘s okay. Jus’ hurts. Jus’ a little. ‘s fine.” He curls up tighter and sobs.

“You’re not fine! You’re hurt, you’re really hurt. What’s hurting you?”

“Jus’ a node. Jus’” – he cries out, and doesn’t stop for what feels like eternity but might be more like fifteen seconds. Blackberry freezes in place, not knowing how to help and terrified of making it worse. When Twist stops screaming, he pants for a moment and then resumes speaking.

“‘s fine. ‘m ok. ‘s jus’… goes away. Always, jus’ –” he trails off in a whimper.

“Okay, okay Papy, it’s okay. I understand. You don’t have to keep talking.”

“Jus’… goes away. It goes away goes away goes away it always, always…” The last word is a sob.

“I know. I know it goes away. I promise I understand. I won’t freak out about it; I’ll just stay right here until it goes away, and you’ll be okay. You’ll be ok, Papy. It will be over soon and then we can play cards.”

“‘m hot.” It’s the smallest whisper, but it jolts Blackberry into action. Of course he’s hot, his soul is burning, and Blackberry knows how to fix it. The temperature part, at least. He digs into his pile of towels as Twist’s whimpers start sounding more like screams. He can’t take the pain away but he can at least stop the heat from scorching Twist’s ribs again.

Oh stars, oh stars, his brother’s soul is hot enough to scorch his ribs. How is he surviving this? How isn’t he losing his mind? How is Blackberry going to keep from throwing up at the thought of it? He almost loses himself in his own panic, but no. Absolutely not. Twist needs him and he’s not going to waste time freaking out about watching what Twist has to actually experience. There’s a job to be done, so get to work. He dunks a towel in the water pitcher.

Twist’s screaming has intensified by the time Blackberry has the towel ready. How is this even going to help? What’s a little water going to do against so much pain? What can he ever do about any of Twist’s pain? That useless line of thinking can stop right there. He knows this helps. He’s seen it. Finding the hottest bones that he can reach with the way Twist is curled, he gently runs the damp cloth along the bones. The response is immediate. Twist gasps, presses into the towel, and tries to grab it to hold it himself. Blackberry lets him take it, heedless of the water dripping everywhere as Twist clutches the towel in desperately clenching hands, and picks up another one.

They sit like that for a long time. Blackberry doesn’t know how long. Twist doesn’t stop screaming, but his screams lose some of their desperation as Blackberry keeps his ribs at a tolerable temperature. He briefly considers trying to cool the soul itself, but that seems like such an invasion and it would be hard to get Twist to uncurl enough to even get to his soul, and for all he knows it wouldn’t even be safe, so he doesn’t try it. Maybe they can look into it later. For now, he just keeps running cold towels across Twist’s ribs and replacing the one Twist is holding when he’s wrung all the water out of it and starts to tear it while trying to get more.

This isn’t so hard. He can do this. Just keep Twist cool and don’t freak out about the fact that he hasn’t stopped screaming in at least ten minutes even though his voice sounds like sandpaper. It’s fine. It will be fine. This is supposed to happen. Everything is going the way it’s supposed to so he shouldn’t be upset. Twist says it’s fine and he’s the one who’s actually suffering, so Blackberry should just suck it up and take care of his brother. It’s what Twist would do for him.

Twist’s screams gradually fade back into into whimpering. That means he might come out of it soon. Okay, time for Blackberry to get himself under control. Twist needs someone he can count on, not someone to take care of. He can do this.

He leans forward when Twist’s sockets unclench and blink open. “Hi, Papy. How are you feeling?”

Twist blinks at him. “Hi.” His voice is hoarse and weak, and doesn’t really tell Blackberry much.

“Do you need anything?”

“Wa…” He coughs. “Water?”

“Certainly. Can I help you sit up first, though?”

“Mhmm.” Twist winces as Blackberry lifts his shoulders and repositions him so he’s lying on his back with the pillows supporting his shoulders and skull, but sighs in relief as he leans back into the pillows. “Thanks. Water?”

“Here.”

Twist makes no move to hold the water bottle, so Blackberry holds it for him and presses the straw to his teeth. “Open up.” He says it gently, teasingly, but Twist’s quickly indrawn breath suggests he doesn’t take it that way. “Brother?”

“Sorry.” Twist lets the straw in his mouth. Blackberry is starting to really not like it when Twist apologizes.

“It’s okay. You’re doing everything just fine. Do you want to drink now?” Twist nods, which pulls the straw out of his mouth. Sockets widening, he quickly catches the straw and bites down on it to hold it in place. This is disturbingly like how he acted after he fell out of bed. He’s much too cooperative. But he needs to drink.

Being very careful to be clear but not commanding, Blackberry suggests, “how about you go ahead and drink now, okay, brother?” Seeing Twist open his mouth to speak, he hastily adds, “you don’t have to answer. Just drink if you’re thirsty.” Twist finally starts to drink, thank the stars.

As Twist drinks, his body loses tension that Blackberry didn’t realize it held. His hands finally uncurl from the washcloth and his sockets close in bliss. By the time they open again, there’s a level of awareness in the working one that suggests Twist might finally be with him.

“Papy?”

“Yeah, little bro?” He’s quiet, but not like he’s struggling to speak, and there’s enough inflection to let Blackberry know he’s doing better.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Think I got lost fer a minute. Kinda. But I’m fine.”

“Was it because of me?”

“Nah. Just… random shit sets me off. Happens all the time. ‘s really annoyin’.”

“Was it something I said?”

“No. I mean, coulda been, but it coulda been anythin’. Everythin’s jus’ right at the surface right now. ‘s got me kinda fucked up. Messed up. Are we doin’ the language thing right now?”

“I think people who can randomly collapse in agony or forget where they are can have a pass for swearing. At least temporarily.” Blackberry tries a weak smile. It sort of works.

“Thanks, bro.” Twist manages an actual smile, even if it is shaky. Then he yawns. “Think I need a nap.”

Blackberry tries very hard not to yawn too, but he loses that battle.

Twist notices. “Think you need a nap, too. Ya didn’t sleep much last night, didja?”

“I slept enough. You take a nap and I’ll watch over you.”

“Ya sure? Ain’t gonna help either of us fer you ta wear yerself out.”

“I’m sure. You go to sleep. I promise I’ll sleep when I’m tired. Here, let me help you with the pillows.” He takes two pillows away so Twist can lie flat on the bed. “There. Is there anything else you need?”

“Nah, I’m good. Feel great, actually. Didja do that towel thing again?”

“Yes, did it help?”

“Helped a lot. My ribs don’ even hurt.”

“That’s wonderful! I’ll make sure to keep doing it.”

“Thanks, bro. Gonna sleep now, okay?”

“Of course. Good night, or morning, or whatever it is.”

“Good whatever.” Twist smiles as he closes his eyes. He’s asleep in moments, smile still on his face.

Blackberry pays close attention while Twist sleeps, not giving himself a chance to be distracted by a book or to fall asleep himself. Twist sleeps peacefully for the most part, with only a few moments of restlessness that Blackberry soothes away with more /love/comfort/protection/hope/. It’s going to be okay. He’s doing a good job taking care of Twist. It’s a little rocky, but Twist feels okay and now he’s sleeping peacefully, and he has better food now, and if he wants to do something when he wakes up they can play a game. They’ve got this.

Twist doesn’t sleep for long. He wakes very refreshed, and happily spends the early afternoon rambling about various subjects. They chat about Blackberry’s school and Twist’s work, which prompts Twist to remember that he didn’t exactly give his boss much of an explanation before he left, or tell anyone how long he would be gone.

“Think they’re mad at me?”

“I wouldn’t think so. Concerned, maybe, but I’m sure they’ll understand once you explain.”

“So ya don’t think I’m gonna get fired?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. They love you there. They wouldn’t fire you.”

“Ya don’t know the day I had before I left.”

“What happened?” It can’t be as bad as Twist is thinking. Those people he works with absolutely adore him. They’ve never had a bad thing to say about him.

“Lost my cool. Really, really lost it.”

“What did you do, yell at your boss? That probably requires an apology, but he’s not just going to fire you over a bad day.”

“I almost punched a customer through a wall.”

“Well that’s–” it sinks in what Twist just said. “Oh my. That is a problem. Did anyone get hurt?” If Twist hurt a customer, if he – what if really, really hurt a customer? What if he–? No, he would have said. They wouldn’t be talking about this so calmly if that happened. They wouldn’t.

“Nah, just the wall.” Oh, thank the stars. Blackberry can breathe again. “Pulled the punch at the last second and missed his head, and the guy was bein’ a shit head so no one was too broken up about it, an’ they stood up fer me with the police, but it shouldn’ta happened in the first place.”

“No, it shouldn’t have, but it sounds like you were provoked, and no one else who was there blamed you for it, so I don’t see what that has to do with you getting fired. Your boss likes you even more than your coworkers do.”

“Might decide I’m too much of a liability ta keep around. Maybe that’s why no one complained when I left a few hours later.”

“Or maybe they were worried about you and thought you needed a break.”

“Ya really think so?”

“I think it’s more likely than all of them suddenly deciding that they don’t want you around anymore because you lost your temper once. Or am I misreading what kind of people they are?”

“Nah, ya know ‘em pretty well. Ya really think they’re worried?”

“Of course they’re worried! Or at least concerned. Wouldn’t you be concerned if one of them went home after a bad day and wasn’t heard from for a week?”

“When ya put it like that, yeah, I guess they might be worried. Maybe I should call ‘em? Let ‘em know what’s goin’ on?”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“Actually, uh, bro?”

“Yes?”

“Can you do it? Call ‘em for me?”

“If you’d like, but why don’t you want to do it?”

“Not too confident in my ability ta manage a phonecall. It’d be pretty embarrassin’ ta ferget who I’m talkin’ to or jus’ randomly start screamin’, doncha think?”

“Oh, good point. It would definitely convince them that you need sick leave, but I can see why you’d want to avoid it. I’ll call them later to let them know what’s going on.”

“Thanks, bro.”

They sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, but then Twist starts to fidget. “Hey, bro?”

“What is it?”

“Still got those cards from this mornin’?”

“Yes, they’re… hmm. Where did I put them?” He has no memory of putting them anywhere after the morning they had, but they must be somewhere. He checks every surface in the room, and is just looking through the bookshelf when he hears a clack and a grunt. He whirls around to investigate, and finds Twist’s upper body hanging over the side of the bed.

“Papy!” he screams in horror. He rushes over to rescue his brother, only to find Twist bracing himself against the floor using both hands and the top of his skull and peering under the bed.

Completely unperturbed by his position, Twist calls, “found ‘em!”

“What?”

“Found the cards. They’re under the bed.”

“You what?”

“Found the cards? Wasn’t that what we were lookin’ for?”

“I was looking for the cards. You were supposed to stay in bed. You’re going to get hurt!”

“Oh. Well, I found ‘em anyway. Don’t think I’m gonna manage ta pick ‘em up, though. Or ta pick myself up, either. Little help here? I’m gettin’ kinda tired.”

“Of course you’re getting tired, because you’re not supposed to be out of bed! Let alone out of bed upside down!” Bending down next to his completely reckless brother, and ignoring the mumbled “‘m kinda still in bed,” Blackberry carefully lifts him and settles him safely back in the middle of the bed. “I can’t believe you did that. You could have gotten hurt! You could have fallen on the floor!”

Twist shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And you get hurt every time it happens.”

“Not hurt this time, though, am I? So it worked out just fine, an’ now we know where the cards are. Not that they’re doin’ us much good under the bed. Mind pickin’ ‘em up, or should I give it another try?”

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh, this is serious. Twist could have gotten hurt, and he doesn’t need any encouragement to do ridiculous, dangerous things. And yes, hanging over the side of the bed is dangerous now and always ridiculous. Don’t laugh. But Twist is watching him with that look, that one where he treats the most ridiculous thing as the only reasonable thing a person could possibly do, and how does he ever manage to keep a straight face? Blackberry isn’t managing it one single bit. Oh stars, he loves his brother so much. Even if his self-preservation instincts couldn’t fill a teaspoon.

“Bro? Gonna get those cards? Ya with me?” Twist waves a hand in Blackberry’s face.

“Huh? Oh, of course! You clearly need something to do.” He retrieves the cards and pulls the deck out of the box. “Can you see these?”

Twist squints at a card. He turns it sideways, then holds it right up to his face. Then he sighs. “Nah, bro, not well enough ta play. All that work, an’ I can’t even use ‘em.”

“You can’t see them at all?”

“A little, but not enough ta tell the numbers apart. The colors are easy, but I got no clue if I’m holdin’ a diamond or a heart right now, an’ I’d have ta count the shapes ta know how many there are.”

“Oh.” That’s disappointing. Blackberry had really been looking forward to having some kind of game to play with Twist.

“Guess it’s back ta talkin’ and sleepin’, less we got a giant card set layin’ around that I don’t know ‘bout.” Well there’s an idea. Not a giant card set, but a game with bigger numbers and bold colors to help tell the cards apart.

“I’ll be right back.” He darts out of the room.

“Bro?” But he doesn’t answer. Twist will see his idea soon enough.

Downstairs, Blackberry digs through the game cabinet. They have all sorts of games to play when the other skeletons come over. Not everyone likes playing poker every time, after all, at least not the way certain members of their group play it.

Most of the games would be too hard to play in bed or have tiny details that Twist won’t be able to see, but this one should work just fine. Finding what he’s looking for, he races back upstairs to try out his idea.

“Uno!” Blackberry shouts with a grin as he enters Twist’s room.

“Dos?” Browbones raised, Twist waits for an explanation for the random Spanish.

“No, no, Uno, the game! Can you play it?”

“Gen’rally, yeah. I think most people can. Why?”

“Can you play it now?” Handing a card to Twist, he asks, “I mean, can you see it? Can you read the numbers?”

Peering at the card, Twist exclaims, “Yeah! Ya know what, bro, I can!”

“Yes! And each suit is a different color, so you shouldn’t have any trouble telling the cards apart.”

“That’s a great idea. Thanks, bro. I was ‘bout ta go outta my mind with nothin’ ta do. Wanna play?”

“Of course! That’s why I brought it. Here, I’ll deal first.”

Uno goes very well. At first Twist struggles with concentrating on the game, resulting in a few losses from holding onto a card that he could have played several turns ago. Gradually, though, his playing improves, until Blackberry realizes that he’s only won one of the last eleven rounds. This arouses his suspicions.

“Papy, you wouldn’t cheat against me, would you?”

Twist looks hurt. As if. “Course not, bro.”

“Then how do you keep winning?” Okay, so, he probably wouldn’t cheat against Blackberry, but he’s never had anything against cheating in general, and he keeps winning!

“Just finally gettin’ a good strategy goin’.” A strategy? In Uno? It’s not that much of a strategy game.

“How many Uno strategies are there?”

“Dunno, but I got one, an’ it’s workin’.” Twist grins.

“It certainly is,” Blackberry grumbles.

“What, ya want me ta go easy on ya, little bro?”

“No! I just wish I knew how you managed a loss-proof strategy for Uno.”

“It ain’t perfect. I lost that one, what was it, six games ago?”

“One, you lost one. One game out of eleven, and I bet you won’t lose another.”

“Heh, guess cards are just my thing, bro. Any kind of cards.” Smiling fondly, Twist reaches over to pat Blackberry’s skull. When Blackberry leans into the touch, Twist scratches at his coronal suture, which never fails to relax him.

“‘kay, bro, I think that’s enough cards fer now. How ‘bout ya get us some dinner? Think we skipped lunch, and I’m actually lookin’ forward ta it after the miracle ya made fer breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t call it a miracle. Any chef could have done it.”

“Well no one else did do it, an’ it means I can look forward ta eatin’, so I appreciate it.”

“I’m happy to help. I’ll go make you another one. I’ve had some more ideas that I’d like to try. We’ll see if you like them.”

“Thanks, bro. Yer the best. And don’t ferget ta get somethin’ fer yerself. Not sure when’s the last time I saw ya eat. Or drink, fer that matter.”

“I might possibly have forgotten, with everything else going on. I’ll make myself some dinner too.”

“An’ bring yerself up a water bottle, too, while yer at it. Last thing we need is you passin’ out from dehydration ‘cause yer too busy worryin’ ‘bout me.”

“Good idea. I’ll get one. I’ll be right back.” He heads downstairs to prepare dinner for both of them. Twist is right, he needs to take care of himself too.

***

Twist smiles fondly as Blackberry leaves the room. His little brother is just the best. He really is. Rushing around all day taking care of Twist, finding things for Twist to do, finding something he can eat and wants to eat. It’s not an easy job, but he’s sticking with it. Twist just hopes he’s remembering to take care of himself.

Blackberry doesn’t rush right back upstairs, which hopefully means he’s doing what he’s told and getting himself some dinner. Twist was a little worried he wouldn’t be willing to be gone so long. Poor little bro, so worried about Twist when nothing all that bad has even happened today. For the most part, it’s been fun, just two brothers hanging out together like they haven’t done in a while. It’s looking like spending extra time with the people he cares about is an unexpected benefit of this treatment. They really are the coolest, Blackberry and Cash both. He wonders what Cash has been doing today. Hopefully he’s gotten some decent rest. If only Blackberry would follow his example.

This really is longer than Blackberry is usually gone. Not that Twist is complaining, but it would be nice if he’d left the water a little closer. Oh, well, this isn’t like this morning. He’s feeling much better now. Look at how well he did finding the cards. Halfway out of bed, and he didn’t even fall out. Reaching the water shouldn’t be any trouble at all. The worst that will happen is he’ll fall out of bed. That’s nothing new.

Paying careful attention to where he places his arms and how he shifts his weight, Twist turns over and slowly drags himself to the edge of the bed. Just like he thought, no trouble at all. It’s just like the cards. Raising himself up onto his elbows, he almost loses his balance, but catches himself on the nightstand. Ha! Not a bit of trouble. No reason to call Blackberry in for something he can do for himself. Leaning forward slightly, he shifts his weight off of one arm to reach for the water, smiles as his hand closes around it, then curses as his other arm refuses to support his weight and sends him toppling over the side of the bed.

Ow. Fuck. Ow. He lies on the ground for a while. His skull is killing him. His ribs are killing him. His spine is killing him. So are his pelvis, his arms and his legs. Fortunately, nothing is literally killing him, so he just holds still and tries to breathe. Ow.

Sometime later, he notices the water bottle next to his hand. He grabs it. He drinks it. Victory! Close enough, anyway.

Maybe he should try to get back in bed before Blackberry gets up here. Where is he, anyway? He can’t have missed that noise. From downstairs, he hears the sound of the blender. Oh, maybe he did miss the noise. What’s he putting in there? That’s loud.

It really would be nice if he could fix this somehow before Blackberry comes back. Somehow, Twist suspects that he’s not going to see getting the water as a victory. Is there any way to get back in bed? Staring up at the miles between the floor and the bed, he makes a small attempt to sit up before giving it up as a lost cause. Not going to work. Oh well, might as well enjoy his hard-earned water. Maybe in the future they’ll keep it closer to the bed.

***

Carrying so many things up and down the stairs is getting really old, really fast. Maybe Blackberry should pull out a serving tray. They definitely have one, he’s just not sure where it is because it doesn’t get a lot of use. Not that he never entertains, it’s just that the group he entertains contains a few individuals who tend to pride themselves on doing silly things like competing to carry the most dishes out by hand or some nonsense like that. They always consider their competitions very impressive. They know better than to let anything spill, but how they’ve managed it, he’ll never know.

Thoughts of his ridiculous brother and friends aside, he really needs to get back to Twist. He’s probably fine. Blackberry is just worrying about nothing. Twist can be alone for a few minutes. He was feeling good and he knows perfectly well that he should call Blackberry if he needs anything. He’s probably perfectly… Not in bed! Where is he?!

“Papy?!”

“Hey, bro,” a weak voice says from the floor. He looks down and sees Twist waving up at him with a weak grin.

“Papy! Oh, brother, what happened? Why are you out of bed? Did you forget where you are? Are you hurt?”

“‘m fine. A little banged up, but nothin’ ta worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?! You’re bleeding!”

“Huh?” Twist looks down at his ribs. “Oh, guess I am. Wouldja lookit that?”

“What happened?” Twist looks away sheepishly. “Or should that be, what did you do?”

“Jus’ wanted a drink.” He looks back and grins, holding up said drink. “An’ look, I got it!”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Might’a o’erestimated how far I could reach. Just a little.” He doesn’t seem particularly regretful about it.

“A little. Papy, you can’t just keep getting hurt like this. What if you cracked your skull open?” Twist looks away again. “Did you crack your skull open?”

“Don’ think so. ‘s just bleedin’ a little. No worse ‘n my ribs.” Just a little. His skull is just bleeding a little, just like the rest of him, because that makes it all better.

“Why didn’t you say so? Oh, nevermind that, just hold still and I’ll come help you up. Would you like to be healed first or would you rather get back in bed first?”

“Huh uh. No healin’. We talked ‘bout this.”

“But you’re bleeding!”

“A little blood loss ain’t gonna kill me. Ya hear this thing on my soul yellin’ bout my HP droppin’? No, ‘cause it ain’t. I’m fine. Jus’ get me back in bed, an’ give me my dinner, an’ I’ll sleep off the rest of it. Or leave me down here if ya want. Wouldn’t be a bad spot if ya gimme a pillow. But no healin’. It ain’t worth the chance.”

“You were afraid to try eating something different, too, and that turned out fine.”

“I let ya mess with my food ‘cause I know ya know a lot about that. More ‘n Iggy, that’s fer sure. It worked out fine ‘cause ya know what yer doin’ when it comes ta cookin’. But ya don’t know any more ‘bout healin’ than any other monster, an’ neither do I. All I know is my magic’s screwed up beyond belief an’ it don’t react well ta interference, and no one’s thought it was a good idea ta heal me so far.”

“Healing shouldn’t do anything to your magic.”

“How d’ya know that?”

“How do you know it’s not dangerous to keep falling out of bed? You keep talking about how nothing’s a big deal and you’re going to be fine, but then you won’t let me heal you even though we don’t know that that’s any more dangerous than anything else that’s happening. Why is getting water without asking for help worth the risk of hurting yourself but healing isn’t?”

“Because nothin’ ya want ta heal is botherin’ me that much.”

“But asking for help is?”

“Yes! Look, bro, ya don’t gotta agree with me or understand it, but I told ya my decision. No healin’. I think it’s more dangerous than you think it is and I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Don’t do it.”

“Okay.” Why is he so stubborn? And why can’t he see that he shouldn’t have to suffer like this? All Blackberry wants to do is help, and Twist will never let himself be helped. “Let’s get you back in bed. Then you can have your dinner. I think you’ll like the changes I’ve made.” He describes the changes as he wraps up all the bleeding bones and lifts Twist into bed. Twist nods along, and happily praises the new recipe as he drinks it.

Blackberry takes a few bites of his own dinner as Twist finishes his smoothie and settles in for bed. Nothing is all that appetizing at the moment, but he did say he would eat something. Just when he thinks Twist is asleep, his sockets slit open and he begins to speak.

“I wish ya wouldn’t worry so much, little bro. I’m alright, really. I had a good day, a real good day.”

“Me too, until I found you bleeding on the floor.”

“Sorry ya had ta see that.”

“Well I’m sorry that it happened. Please let me help you, Papy, please.”

“Ya are helpin’ me.”

“You won’t let me heal you. You won’t even ask for help getting a drink of water, or tell me when you’re upset, or anything.”

“I’m doin’ alright, bro. Yer takin’ care of me, an’ I ain’t as breakable as ya think.”

“Maybe that attitude is the problem. Maybe you think you can just keep taking everything that happens, but eventually you’re going to end up really hurt. You already are. You shouldn’t take so many risks, and you need to let me help you.”

“I am lettin’ ya help me. Ain’t gonna live in a bubble, though. When I feel up ta doin’ somethin’, I’m gonna do it, even if it does leave me with a few scratched up bones. Otherwise, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“I understand. I know you can’t just hold still and be helpless. Just please try to let me take care of you? Please?”

“Yeah, bro. Yer already takin’ care of me. Yer doin’ a good job.”

Blackberry sighs. “Alright, brother. Why don’t you go to sleep now? I’ll keep the nightmares away again.”

“When are you gonna sleep?”

“I’ll find a good time.”

“I’m gonna be pissed if I wake up ta find out you’ve just been sittin’ there watchin’ me all night.”

“I won’t, I promise. I’ll just help you get started sleeping, and then I’ll go to sleep too. As soon as possible, I promise.”

“‘kay, bro. I’m trustin’ ya on this.”

“Goodnight, brother.”

“Night, little bro.” And with that, Twist finally lets himself sleep.

It’s hard to watch him sleep, knowing he has so many injuries and not doing anything about it. Why won’t he let Blackberry heal him? No one said anything about healing being a problem. He pulls out his notes with Cash’s instructions. There’s nothing written about healing. It’s just a guess, more of a worry than anything. Twist never lets worry keep him from doing something important, so why is he doing it now? Oh, right, because he doesn’t think healing himself is important.

That has to be it. If there was an actual reason to avoid healing, someone would have said something. If Twist had any stronger reason to oppose it than simple worry, he would have explained. There’s no reason Twist shouldn’t be healed. He just doesn’t think his own comfort is important enough, which is why he needs someone like Blackberry to take care of him instead of someone like Cash, who probably did fine with the technical side of things but can hardly be relied on to care for someone’s comfort. There’s little enough comfort to be found in this terrible treatment, and there’s no reason Twist should start tomorrow in pain.

It’s just a little healing. He’ll just try the tiniest bit and see how it goes. On the small chance that anything goes wrong, he’ll just stop. It will be no trouble whatsoever.

Uncovering a small cut that’s still bleeding, Blackberry adds just a tiny bit of healing magic. Nothing happens. Then he tries a bit more. Nothing bad, just a small decrease in bleeding. He tries a little more. That’s strange. There’s a little flicker, almost like a spark? But that doesn’t make sense. He must be seeing things. Healing has nothing to do with electricity, which is what that looked like. Besides, he’s making some progress. The cut is almost starting to close. It will take all night to get all of them at this rate, though, so he’d better pick up the pace. He applies a normal amount of healing magic.

Again, the results are strange. There’s almost a mix of his own blue magic with Twist’s. Almost, but not quite. More like the magics are swirling around each other, not quite interacting yet, but they’re starting to come together. Shouldn’t the healing magic be absorbing into Twist’s own system? Instead, it’s hovering around the cut, almost like it can’t get in. What’s wrong with it?

Looking closer, Blackberry can see more of those little sparks along the line where his magic and his brother’s meet. What are those? And why are they growing?!

Twist’s arm twitches at a spark that’s big enough to obscure the entire cut, and he groans. His sockets fly open and he mouths something that Blackberry can’t hear, before sparks burst across his broken socket and he arches off the bed in a full body convulsion.


	18. Chapter 18

Twist shakes as blue and gold magic arc across his body. Limbs contract as magic sparks through the gaps between bones, sending him arching off the bed before letting him crash back down again as they disperse and reform between other joints. Sparks across both eye sockets shut them tight, then blow them wide open as his jawbone clenches shut. A high-pitched whine escapes through his teeth, and his eyelight, when it appears through the sparks, is blown wide.

Blackberry yanks his hands back from the cut, pulling back the healing magic that caused such a violent reaction. It makes no difference. It won’t stop. What has he done?

“Papy? Stars, Papy, what’s happening?! Brother! Brother, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry, can you hear me? What’s happening? Please, I don’t know what to do.” His hands hover over Twist, afraid to touch, knowing no good could possibly come from touching, but unwilling to step away.

The sparks are worst in his ribcage, where they leap from the gaps between his vertebrae to his soul and back again. His soul is absolutely glowing, not in any metaphorical sense but more like a lightbulb. Nothing Blackberry knows tells him what to do about this. It looks like his brother is being electrocuted by his own magic. Or by Blackberry’s magic, which is worse because Twist said not to heal him, insisted that he shouldn’t, but he did it anyway because Twist can’t be trusted to take care of himself, he just can’t. He always lets himself get hurt, but now he’s hurt anyway, and it’s not stopping and Blackberry doesn’t know what to do. He buries his skull in his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Brother, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t know how to help.” He didn’t know, he didn’t, he couldn’t, because it wasn’t on the list so Cash didn’t say… “Cash! I’ll call Cash!” Maybe Cash knows what to do. He knows so much that he shouldn’t know from just finding out about it yesterday. Maybe he knows what this is.

He calls Cash’s cellphone, trying to tune out that terrible sound escaping Twist’s throat and the rattling and clacking of bones. “Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up.” The phone keeps ringing.

***

Cash scowls at his ringing phone. Who has the nerve to bother him this late at night? Glaring, he lets it go to voicemail. Whoever it is can wait until he feels like dealing with them.

The phone rings again. Who the hell is it, and what do they have to say that they think is so important? He picks it up to check the caller ID, then pauses as he reads the name. Blackberry.

“what the fuck does he want?” He thinks about putting the phone back down. Why should he interrupt his evening to involve himself with that happy little pair again? Self-righteous prick of a Sans thinks taking care of Twist is so easy, he can just wait until morning or figure out whatever it is himself. They both made it clear that they don’t need Cash. <strike>Twist didn’t. Twist wanted him to come back. </strike>So why should he bother answering? <strike>Twist going still after writhing in agony, Twist looking at him in wide-eyed terror as he confuses reality with whatever horrors are in his mind, thanking Cash for being there when he comes back.</strike> Blackberry can handle it. There’s no reason for Cash to get involved. No reason at all. No reason – “fuck.”

He answers the phone. “what?”

“Cash! Oh, stars, Cash, something’s wrong with Twist and I don’t know what to do! You have to help us, please!” Oh, shit.

“describe what’s happening.”

“I don’t know! It’s like he’s being electrocuted! All these little sparks keep jumping across his joints and his soul and his eyes –”

“sparks?!”

“and he’s shaking and he can’t answer when I try to talk to him and it’s hurting him and I don’t know what to do!” And he thinks Cash does know what to do? Shit, they’re all screwed.

“when did it start?”

“A couple of minutes ago, maybe? I don’t know, how long have I been waiting for you to pick up the phone? It’s been a little longer than that.”

“has it changed in that time?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe a little? But it’s still really bad. Please, Cash, tell me what you think is happening. It’s really bad. We have to do something to help him. Please tell me.”

“i don’t know what’s happening or what to do about it. that’s what i’m trying to figure out. do you know what started it?”

“Not for sure.” That’s a lie, or close enough to one. He’s hiding something. “I don’t know enough about it to guess the cause. What do you think caused it?”

“how should i know? i wasn’t there and i can’t guess just from the symptoms. you’d need iggy for that.”

“I don’t want to –”

“i don’t want to involve her either, so why don’t you tell me what happened so i can tell you whether we have to?”

Blackberry hesitates for a moment. Just when Cash is about to demand answers before he comes over there himself, Blackberry mumbles something inaudibly.

“what did you say? say it loud enough that i can hear you, unless you’d rather let your brother die than tell me whatever it is.”

“I healed him!” Blackberry shouts. “Or at least I tried to.” Then he bursts into tears.

“you. did. what?”

“I, I tried to heal –”

“i heard what you said. why did you do that?!” What could possibly possess him to think he could ignore everything he’s been told about the critical condition of Twist’s soul and magic and every precaution that was put in place to protect it? Did Twist manage to break off a rib, or something? Maybe some kind of damage that would mean he’d lose a limb if it wasn’t repaired immediately?

“He was bleeding –”

“‘bleeding out’ level of bleeding, or –”

“‘His bones look like they’ve been shredded by shrapnel’ level of bleeding, and I wasn’t just going to let him lie there in pain that I could do something about –”

“so you decided to make his magic electrocute him instead?”

“I didn’t know it would do that! How was I supposed to know? You didn’t say anything about it.”

“yes i did.”

“No you didn’t. I wrote down everything you said last night, and there was nothing about healing on that list.”

That can’t be true. He did tell him. Didn’t he? He must have said something about it. Surely there was something about not doing anything to disrupt his magic, or… but did he specifically say no healing? Maybe he didn’t. He was too tired to function when he left last night, so maybe he assumed it was obvious when it’s actually only obvious to someone who has read as many of Iggy’s reports as he has. He buries his skull in his hands. What has he done?

“never mind that. just call iggy. call her right now.”

“I don’t have her number.”

“i didn’t even give you her number? fuck. it’s in my phone. i’ll send you the contact.”

“Thank you. And I… I’m sorry for not listening better,” Blackberry says in a very small voice.

“i – you didn’t have clear instructions.” That’s as close to an apology as he can manage. They’ve both fucked this up beyond belief. Twist might as well still be in the lab. “call her.”

“I will. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“if she insists he needs to come back to the lab, call me. it might be true, but don’t take him there without me. i have better leverage over her than you do.”

“Alright. I’m going to call her now. Papy’s really hurting.”

“sure. bye.” Cash hangs up, and goes to pour himself another drink, never letting his phone leave his side.

***

Iggy startles awake at the ringing of her phone. Fumbling for the source of the noise, she knocks the phone on the floor before finally managing to check the number. It’s not one she knows, but those damn ‘the IRS is suing you’ scammers haven’t managed to get through her latest call blocking program yet, so it’s probably a legitimate caller. So much for getting an early night.

“Hello?” she yawns.

“Is this Iggy?”

“Yes?”

“Lovely to meet you. We’ll have to talk more later, but at the moment I think my brother might be dying because of you and you need to fix it right now.”

“Huh? Who is this?” She’s probably not awake enough for this.

“Oh, how rude of me. My name is Blackberry, and one week ago you manipulated my brother – you do remember my brother Twist, don’t you? – You manipulated my brother into letting you inject a drug into his soul that isn’t remotely ready for use outside of clinical trials, despite being repeatedly told that he would not be participating in your experiments, and now I’m afraid it might be killing him, so I would really _appreciate_ your help.” Make that definitely not awake enough for this.

“Oh, um, well, hello? Do you need something? Wait.” She blinks as the first thing he said registers. “You think he might be dying? What? Why?”

“Well, given the terrible condition you left him in, I tried to heal him,” Oh no no no no no, “and given the way your treatment damaged his magic, his magic currently seems to be electrocuting him, which I’m sure you’ll understand I’m rather anxious to stop.” This is why family members aren’t supposed to be involved. They do idiotic things like this because they can’t help but put momentary comfort over long term benefits. And over long term survival.

“You can’t heal him! Don’t you know what that does to his magic?”

“Now I know, but everyone somehow failed to inform me of that problem. Cash tried to explain, but it was a very stressful situation and he found it difficult to convey all of the necessary information by memory, on top of both of us needing to fill in some gaps for ourselves due to a general lack of information. I’m sure it was all a miscommunication, because of course you wouldn’t deliberately delay providing necessary information for my brother’s care because you were angry that Cash took him away from you.”

“Of course not! That would be completely unethical. It’s just hard to explain everything to those without sufficient medical background to understand it.”

“I’m sure ethical behavior has always been your highest priority. So, my brother seems to be having increasing difficulties with breathing while we enjoy this lovely discussion, so if you could tell me how to fix this instead of defending your abysmal medical practices, I would appreciate it.”

“He’s having trouble breathing? That’s bad. Does it look like typical hyperventilation, or like he can’t coordinate the expansion of the ribcage well enough to take a full breath?”

“Like he can’t take a breath, and I’m sure we’ll get a chance at some point to discuss why you’re so comfortable with symptoms of panic attacks from monsters in your care.” Ugh, _family members_. Let them see even one sign of a patient being upset and they act like it’s torture. But she can be the mature one here. The patient’s health is more important.

“Ok, let me think.” As she speaks, she switches the phone to speaker phone and changes out of her sleepwear. “You said it looks like his magic is electrocuting him? That sounds like an integration problem with the foreign magic from healing. Does it look like little sparks of the two different magic colors? In skeletons, it’s probably most visible in the joints and the soul. Maybe the eye sockets, too.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it looks like.”

“Good. I mean, not good that it’s happening, that’s actually really bad, but good that it is what I think it is, because I can fix it. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes with a magic suppressant.”

“And that will fix it?”

“If he makes it that long.”

“Can’t you get here any faster?”

“What do you want me to do, teleport? Wait, Cash can teleport, can’t he? That’s how he took Twist out of my lab.”

“He can! I’ll call him. You be ready to go when he gets there.” Blackberry hangs up before Iggy can answer. The last thing she wants to do is spend time with these skeletons that stole her research subject only to almost kill him, but timing is critical here and she’s not going lose a patient to anyone’s incompetence.

***

Twist is getting worse. He’s not moving so much anymore, but his bones constantly rattle with a fine tremor and he’s struggling for every breath. He’s stopped that terrible whining sound, but that’s probably because he can’t get enough air for it, not because it’s stopped hurting him. There’s nothing more Blackberry can do after calling Cash again, so he sits beside Twist, holding a hand that keeps clenching into a fist, mumbling apologies and assurances that he hopes Twist can hear.

“I’m so sorry, brother. I didn’t know this would happen. I just wanted to help. I’m so sorry. Help is coming, I promise. Just hold on. I’m so sorry. I can’t help you but help is coming. Iggy will fix this.” Twist eyelight appears just long enough to dart towards Blackberry at that, before being lost again in a sea of warring magics. 

“Papy? Can you hear me? Help is coming. They should be here any time now. Iggy is coming –” That gets the faintest whimper, and Twist looks away with an expression of fear before getting lost again. Blackberry is going to kill her. Someday soon, as soon as they don’t need her anymore, he’ll slip something unnoticeable into her drink, just something mild to start with… No. Focus. Twist needs him now.

“I know you don’t want her here. I don’t either, but she can fix this, and I won’t let her do anything else. I promise.” Twist looks at him again, holding his gaze and inching his jaw open as if to speak before it becomes too difficult. “Brother? What are you trying to say? I promise I won’t let Iggy do anything. I promise. You know you can trust me. You, you know, you know I’d never…” he sobs. “Oh, Papy, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault! I should have listened to you and then this never would have happened, and I don’t blame you at all if you don’t trust me to protect you from Iggy but please, please don’t be scared. We’re going to help you and then Iggy will leave and I promise I’ll listen the next time you tell me not to do something and I’m so sorry, I’m so sor – sorry, I’m sorry brother –”

“Bro.” It’s the quietest whisper, forced out between teeth that won’t move by barely enough air to make a sound.

“Papy?” Twist doesn’t speak again, but his hand shifts to squeeze Blackberry’s, and somehow he knows that he’s forgiven. By Twist, at least, even if he doesn’t remotely deserve it. “You’ll be alright, Papy. Just hold on another minute. Just a little longer.” Twist doesn’t respond, just struggles to breathe in a body that won’t obey him. Then they wait.

After far too long, Cash and Iggy appear in the room. They’re arguing. “I think I know how to treat my patient, thank you very much.”

“you’ve done a great job so far.”

“Oh and you two are doing fantastic, I see.”

“he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place if you’d just done your job and given us the information we needed, or if you hadn’t fucked it all up so badly in the first place that we had to do it all ourselves.”

“If you would just get off your high horse for one second and look at the reality of the situation instead of living in some perfect dream world where everything –”

Blackberry steps into the small space between them. “Terribly sorry to interrupt, but would you mind waiting until my brother isn’t suffocating to have this debate?” Twist punctuates Blackberry’s statement with a desperate gasp for air.

“shit.” Cash’s glare fades to something more nuetral. “you have what you need to fix this?” he asks Iggy.

“Yes. I need his soul now, and don’t interfere.”

Twist whimpers as Iggy reaches into his ribcage, frightened gaze directed breifly towards her before losing focus again. He makes a vague attempt to swipe her hand away, but it’s ineffective and she easily catches his wrist. He gnashes his teeth and tries to pull his arm out of her grip, but he can’t coordinate the movement and can do nothing as she presses his wrist into the bed.

Blackberry sees red. How dare she treat Twist like this? After everything she’s already done to him?! He leaps towards her with no idea what he’ll do when he gets there other than get her away from his brother, only for Cash to catch him by the back of his shirt.

“Let me go! Are you really going to let her treat him like that? I thought you were his friend, but if you were you’d never let her –”

Cash lifts him off the ground as Blackberry fights to get away. “will you just listen for one fucking second?! twist is suffocating, you said it yourself. iggy may be the only person in the whole damn world who knows how to fix this. who cares if she’s a bitch about it?”

“She shouldn’t get to hurt my brother.”

“of course she shouldn’t, but you’re not going to help him by keeping her from saving him. just look.”

Blackberry does look, and sees that Iggy has pulled Twist’s soul from the mess of sparks in his ribcage. She lets go of his hand and steps back to pull out a needle from her pocket and line it up to inject it. Twist whines as the needle enters his soul, then arches his back in one last convulsion before falling still.

“There, that’s better,” Iggy calmly states as she sets down the needle and puts Twist’s soul back in its place. “That one was close for a minute there.”

“what did you do to him?” Cash snarls.

Iggy’s eyebrows rise. “Saved him. I’d think that would be obvious.”

Having gotten his own protective fury somewhat under control, Blackberry tries to be the voice of reason again. “What Cash means is would you please explain _how_ you saved him? It’s good that his magic has calmed down, but I think we’re both a little concerned by the fact that he isn’t moving at all now.”

“That would be because he’s unconscious.”

“I see. And why is he unconscious?”

“Because of the magic suppressant I just gave him. It will keep his own magic and the foreign magic from your attempt at healing him calm while they integrate. Left as they were, they would have just kept repelling each other until they destroyed his mana lines.”

“I’ve never heard of that happening before.”

“I doubt you’ve ever dealt with anyone with such unstable magic before. His magic has no capacity for integrating foreign magic right now, which is why healing him is absolutely off limits. You could have killed him.” She glares at both of them.

“What do you mean by foreign magic?”

“Any magic with markers that aren’t his. Yours is probably better than most monsters because you’re related, but there are still some differences and he can _not_ handle it. Why did no one tell you this?” This time her glare is directed entirely at Cash.

“there was some miscommunication.”

“I’m sure. Honestly, I’m surprised you made it this long without setting off something like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means family members always cause problems when they get involved in things like this. You always want quick fixes and always prioritize temporary comfort over long term recovery. Honestly, Twist wasn’t too bad about that when he was alone, other than a few complaints that were perfectly understandable, given his level of disorientation and discomfort. He knows the importance of this work and understands that I sometimes have to make decisions for his benefit that he may not like. I’m actually surprised he didn’t object to being healed. Even if he didn’t know exactly why I hadn’t done it, he should have known that there was a reason.”

Blackberry looks down at his feet. Iggy and Cash both notice.

“is there something you’d like to share with the group?” Cash says in a voice like ice.

“I –”

“Are you seriously telling me that your brother, who has been going through this treatment for a week while learning about it from the expert who developed it, told you not to heal him, and you, who learned about it _yesterday_ and has nothing but second-hand information, decided to do it anyway?”

“He was hurt!”

“Well now he’s hurt worse.”

“I didn’t know this would happen. He didn’t know either, he was just worried.”

“If he was worried and you didn’t know if there was reason to be, why didn’t you ask?”

“Ask who, you? I didn’t realize Cash knew anything about it, and you’re hardly a reliable source when it comes to taking care of Twist.”

“I know everything about this treatment –”

“But you know absolutely nothing about my brother.”

“I’ve spent a week taking care of your brother, and we were doing just fine.”

Cash scoffs at that. “strange definition of fine.”

“Well how would you define it then? Surely you didn’t expect to find him happily frolicking through fields of flowers while parts of his soul dissolve. I can’t make it into a pleasant experience, physically or psychologically. That’s just not how it works.”

“so you decided to make it absolute hell instead.”

“I did not! I did nothing unpleasant that wasn’t absolutely necessary. He made it worse for himself by getting weird about some things, and maybe that’s because of the treatment so I don’t blame him for it, but –”

“He’s afraid of you.” Blackberry can’t understand it. Can she really not see something so obvious? How can she act like she did nothing wrong? How can she act like Twist was fine with her, like she treated him well?

“Oh he is not. A tough guy like him, scared of me? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He was afraid when I told him you were coming here.” He probably shouldn’t share this, shouldn’t give her so much power, but she already has all of the power and she won’t even acknowledge that she’s misusing it. Maybe she just doesn’t understand. Maybe she can change.

“He’s afraid of all sorts of things. It’s just the treatment. He’s constantly hallucinating and confused –”

“No he is not! He’s confused and frightened when he’s hallucinating, but most of the time he’s perfectly aware of what’s happening and he’s only afraid when there’s something to be afraid of.” And if she won’t change… well, then she’ll pay.

“He was barely connected to reality most of the time he was in the lab.”

“Well maybe you kept setting him off. Cash, you’ve been to the lab. What do you think? Does Papy have good reason to be afraid of Iggy?”

“considering the first thing he did when she came in the lab was try to protect me from her using his completely non-functional magic, i’d say he does.”

“He was confused. He’s always confusing what’s actually happening with whatever’s happening in his mind. Hallucinations are extremely common with this treatment, and in someone with any kind of history of trauma, which he obviously has, it’s very common for those hallucinations to take the form of flashbacks. You must have seen them since you’ve had him here. He’s never gone this long without one.”

“Of course we’ve seen them. Well, I have. Have you, Cash?” Cash nods. “But with me, as soon as he realized where he was, he stopped being afraid and went back to acting mostly like his normal self. Did he do that with you, too, Cash?”

“yes. every time.”

“So, Iggy, it would seem that with two out of the three people who have been taking care of him, having flashbacks doesn’t make him afraid of the person outside of the flashback. That would suggest that he has some other reason to be afraid of you, which would suggest that you haven’t done quite as wonderful of a job taking care of him as you claim you have.”

“I’ve done the best that could be done.”

“you tied him to a bed and left him alone in your lab,” Cash takes over the argument.

“That was the only practical solution –”

“the _only_ practical solution? there was absolutely nothing else you could have done?”

“Nothing reasonable. Look, I get what you’re implying. You want me to say that I should have told you all what we were doing so a hoard of skeletons could descend upon my lab and make sure I didn’t hurt my patient’s feelings while I saved his life, even though _I’m_ not the one who managed to destabilize his magic to the point of it almost killing him.”

“There’s a difference between hurting someone’s feelings and traumatizing them.”

“I haven’t ‘traumatized’ anyone, and _you_ don’t have any ground to stand on with that.”

“I made a mistake. A really,” Blackberry winces, “really bad mistake, and I know it.” Thinking about it would also be a mistake right now, because he can’t afford to cry in front of Iggy. It’s bad enough to be talking about Twist’s vulnerabilities, that she should have already figured out by now anyway, without letting her see his own, too. “You, however, keep making the same mistake, and even now you won’t admit that you ever mistreated my brother.”

“Because I didn’t mistreat him! I did everything according to protocol, and he understood the reasoning behind it all. You’re really much more upset about everything than he ever was. The most I ever got from him were a few complaints, which he got over quickly once I did what needed to be done and he saw it was for his own good.”

A few complaints. She got ‘a few complaints’ from Twist, which he got over once she did whatever it was anyway and told him it was for his own good. Blackberry feels sick. He glances at Cash, who doesn’t look much better. How can he even begin to explain everything that’s wrong with that line of thinking? <strike>And does he even have a right to? Didn’t he just do the same thing?</strike>

“My brother does not stand up for himself,” he states emphatically. “He stands up for everyone else, but not for himself. If he ‘complained’ about anything, it’s because whatever you did to him was absolutely horrific.” She needs to understand. Twist can’t be so dependent on someone who doesn’t understand that basic thing about him. <strike>Then what does that say about Blackberry? Twist never objects to anything he does, even when he knows he goes a little overboard, but he objected to being healed and Blackberry ignored him. What right does he have to act like he’s any better than anyone else who’s used Twist?</strike>

“Cash insisted on that nonsense, too, but in my experience, he complains about all kinds of ridiculously minor things.”

“then maybe you need to rethink how ‘minor’ those things really were,” Cash growls. Oh, that’s right, Cash is mad at her too, and he isn’t even being a hypocrite about it. Who’d have thought Cash would be the one _least_ responsible for betraying Twist’s trust? At least Cash is honest when he hates everyone, even if he’s not honest about much else.

For a moment, Iggy almost seems affected by their words. More than offended, she almost seems hurt. But then it’s gone. “You know what? Fine. Believe I’m evil if you’d like. What matters right now is getting Twist through this alive. Now, at some point he’s going to wake up, and there are some things we need to do before that happens.”

“What do we need to do?” Blackberry is reluctant to believe anything she says, but he’s also not going to assume he has any better answers. Hopefully with Cash there too, the two of them can figure it out.

“First, you need to know that the suppressant is dangerous to use on someone with a compromised magical system. It may take his magic down to sub-functional levels, at which point it will start drawing on HP. He’s not going to be able to take in new magic except through direct infusion, which means don’t feed him, so he will have to be monitored carefully because his HP will drop. He’s also going to need to be kept calm and still. The magic holding his joints together is as suppressed as the rest of it, so he could easily lose a limb and we won’t be able to reattach it.”

“and this is the only thing you could have given him?” Cash demands with the same suspicion that’s in Blackberry’s mind.

“Yes. I would never use something this dangerous if there was a better way to do it. Criticize my methods all you like, but I’ve never done anything to put him more in danger of dying from this.” Cash nods, so Blackberry decides to trust his judgement.

“So we can’t feed him, and we need to be careful of his joints. What else?”

“Be _extremely_ careful of his joints. In fact, given how much he tends to move around, and the way skeleton joints work, I don’t think it’s possible to be careful enough of his joints. The only safe thing to do is to tape them together.”

“What?!” Blackberry and Cash demand simultaneously.

“Don’t look so horrified. You’d think I’d said I was cutting his arms off. See, this is the kind of thing that’s upsetting, but necessary. It’s really not that big a deal. We just reinforce each joint with a little medical tape, and take it off once the suppressant wears off. It will restrict movement, but that’s half the point, and it won’t hurt him.”

Oh, no. They can’t do that to Twist. They can’t. He can’t handle being trapped, and that’s as trapped as a person can get, worse than being tied up <strike>like that time when he was younger _but not young enough to excuse it _before he knew not to go into the room Twist and Muffet started sharing, when he walked in and saw her wrapping Twist head to foot in spider silk and Twist smiled reassuringly “‘s okay, bro, ‘s just a game, a grownup game. Ya’d think it’s boring, so go on an’ do somethin’ else.” “That’s right, a grownup game, ahuhuhuhu. Run along, Dearie, unless you’d like to join in.” He slammed the door and ran before he could think too much about the hollowness in his brother’s eyes.</strike> Blackberry can’t even speak.

Fortunately, Cash can. “you really have no idea what it means to make someone completely incapable of movement, do you?”

“I’m sure it’s not fun, but neither is watching all four limbs crumble to dust when they fall off.”

That does put it in a little perspective. Kind of. “So that’s it? We tape Papy’s joints together or they fall apart?”

“Those are the choices, yes, and I’m not losing the key to a cure for monster-kind’s biggest problem because you two are squeamish about the only solution to a problem you caused.” Ignoring the dig, because he already knows perfectly well that he caused this, Blackberry looks towards Cash. Cash doesn’t know everything Blackberry knows, but he knows enough to be an ally, here. But an ally for what? What else can they do?

“it doesn’t look like there are any other options,” Cash echos his thoughts.

“Alright.” It has to be done. Oh, stars, it has to be done. “Okay, we can do this, but then you tell me how to know when the suppressant is gone and then you leave, understand? I’m not making my brother go through this only to wake up and find he’s trapped with you again.”

“Fine, whatever, let’s get going before he wakes up and makes it all pointless.” Pulling tape from a pocket in her lab coat, she demonstrates how to securely wrap each type of joint, then cuts them each a piece of tape and directs them to help. Blackberry dreads the moment when Twist wakes up, and the care Cash uses in his wrapping suggests that he does too.

Iggy, on the other hand, is more concerned with efficiency, so she’s the one who startles Twist awake before they’re finished. His eye sockets fly open while Blackberry is halfway through wrapping his cervical vertebrae, and he gasps. Then he tries to sit up, to everyone’s horror.

“Don’t move Papy, please don’t move,” Blackberry begs. “I promise it’s ok, just let me explain, please don’t move.” Twist’s sockets stay wide in fear, but his eyelight darts towards Blackberry and he doesn’t move.

“That’s good brother, that’s very good, just don’t move. Your magic is suppressed right now, so there isn’t enough to hold your joints together, so you need to hold still. We’re working on wrapping them up so they’ll be safe, but we’re not done yet so please just hold still until we’re done.” Twist gives the slightest nod, then doesn’t move again while Blackberry finishes his cervical vertebrae.

Upon reaching Twist’s skull, Blackberry encounters a problem. “What about his jaw? Do I have to tape it closed?” That would be cruel beyond what he can tolerate, especially with the way his brother’s good eyelight flares even wider.

“Probably not.” Twist flinches at Iggy’s voice. “Hey, don’t move.” He tenses. “Not like that! You can’t put that much strain on your joints. You’re going to dislocate something, and I’m not going to be able to reattach it before it dusts. Now, about the jaw, I think you can just put a piece on each side to make sure it doesn’t fall off. What magic is left should be concentrated around the skull and the soul. It’s mainly the limbs I’m worried about, and the vertebrae could have problems because they experience so much pressure each time the body moves. So I think his mouth can stay free.” Blackberry would be relieved, except that Twist’s bones are rattling, the tape muffling the sound but not stopping it completely, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“maybe you should leave now.” Thank the stars for Cash, and that’s not something Blackberry ever thought he’d say.

“Excuse me? Are you the one with the medical expertise? I’ll leave when I’m convinced my patient isn’t going to fall apart.”

“what, exactly, would convince you of that? other than taping him together like a broken vase, what else needs to be done?”

“Nothing specific, other than getting him to hold still, which has always been hopeless.”

“i suspect that will go better when you’re gone. now, what, _exactly_, do we need to do? don’t feed him, don’t let him move, and keep his hp up? anything else?”

“Nothing else.” She sighs. “You’re acting like I’m torturing him. I get that this is upsetting, but it isn’t hurting him.”

“he’s. shaking.”

“I know! Look, it’s not that I want to be the bad guy here, but someone has to. There are no alternatives. I wish I could give him a pill and make it all go away, but I can’t. Surely neither of you have been so sheltered that you can’t understand doing what has to be done.”

That’s as many justifications as Blackberry can stand to listen to. “If you realize that you’re upsetting him, then leave. You’ve told us what to do and what not to do. We both understand. All you’re doing at this point is making it worse. Please, if you really want to help, just leave.” She almost sounds like she cares. So much of what she says sounds so close to wanting to do the right thing. But she just doesn’t get it, and there are more important problems right now than making her understand. <strike>He is, of course, the moral authority in the room after causing this whole mess by doing the exact opposite of what Twist asked him to do _while he was sleeping_.</strike>

“Fine. You know what? Deal with him on your own. It’s late, I’m tired, and I’ve told you everything I can tell you. The suppressant should last for ten to twelve hours. After that, you can take the tape off. But if something goes wrong, call me immediately. Don’t put this shit about protecting him from the mean scary scientist ahead of keeping him alive.”

“We’ll call you if anything goes wrong. Cash, will you take her home?”

“yes. pick up your stuff. we’re leaving.”

“Fine.” Iggy gathers her supplies, then stands by Cash. Then they are gone.

Blackberry lets out a sigh of relief. “Brother? She’s gone.”

Twist takes a moment to recognize what he said, then his sockets narrow. “Ya sure?” His voice is a little strained, but much better than before the suppressant.

“I’m sure. Cash took her away.”

“Oh. Tha’s good.” It’s not much of a response, but he’s shaking less.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uh… dunno? Not great.” The rattling starts picking up again.

“I’m so sorry about the tape. Your magic isn’t strong enough to hold your bones together right now, so – what’s wrong?”

Browbones furrowed in bewilderment, Twist asks, “tape?”

“On your joints. We reinforced all of your joints with medical tape so they don’t fall apart. Remember?”

“Oh. Thought it was… never mind.”

“You thought it was what?”

“Nuthin’.” Right, nothing. Oh, Papy, why do these things keep happening? Oh, right, because Blackberry decided to be the world’s worst brother and go behind his brother’s back to heal him without even thinking that there might have been a good reason not to do it. Tears well in his sockets again. He’s being such a crybaby.

“Bro? Wha’s wrong?” And now Twist has noticed, and he’s still trying to take care of Blackberry even though Blackberry should be the one taking care of him, and he’s being such a terrible little brother.

“I’m sorry. Papy, I’m so sorry,” he cries, climbing into the chair and curling in on himself. “I never should have tried to heal you. You told me and I should have listened but I did it anyway and I did it when you were sleeping so you couldn’t even tell me not to, but you already did tell me not to and I didn’t listen and now you’re hurt and you’re wrapped up in tape and I’m just sitting here crying instead of helping you and I’m a terrible brother and –”

“Bro! Enough a that. C’mere.”

“I don’t think I should. We couldn’t tape your ribs too tightly or they might have trouble bending and you wouldn’t be able to breathe, so I don’t think it’s safe to hug you or anything so –”

“Then jus’ listen.” He has to pause to catch his breath. “I’m not… all that sure what’s… happenin’ but ya… seem ta think I’m… mad at ya er somethin’… an’ I… ain’t.” 

“But Papy, you told me not to heal you and I did it anyway! I went behind your back and now you’re hurt and I’m sorry –”

“Bro. Yer doin’ it again.”

“Sorry.”

“I get that yer sorry. An’ I know… what’cha did. An’ we probly… probly gotta talk later… but I ain’t… doin’ too great with… that now. So jus’ let it go. Ya ain’t a terrible brother. Enough apologizin’.”

“Sorry.” That gets a raised browbone. “Sorry. I mean… oh you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I’m covered in… tape now?” Blackberry nods. “The towels were better.”

“Well of course. Those were the idea of the Sensational Sans, not an evil scientist.” Blackberry tries for a haughty grin. It fails.

“She’s not… never mind. ‘s too much work.” His eyes drift closed.

“How about you get some sleep now. The tape can come off in the morning.”

“‘kay. Good –” He leaps an inch off the bed when Cash appears beside them.

“Cash!” Blackberry scolds. “Don’t scare him like that!”

“i just – fuck. twisted?” Twist is shaking again. He was almost asleep! “twist? it’s just me. it’s cash.” Twist is still trembling.

“Maybe you should step away and let him calm down.”

“just a minute. let me try to get through to him. twisted, it’s cash. would you rather i say i’m patches? fine, it’s patches. if you think i’m someone else, take a minute to consider whether they’d call themselves patches.”

Twist blinks. “Not sure you’d… call yerself patches… either, sweetheart.” Oh, thank the stars, he’s back.

“the things i do for you. now, you should both know that iggy’s back in her lab with no plans to come back here unless one of us calls her. twist, how much do you know about what’s going on?”

“Uh… I’m covered in tape?” Cash nods. “‘cause my magic won’t hold my joints t’gether? ‘cause…” Twist glances at Blackberry.

“He knows what I did.” Everyone knows, even Iggy, because he doesn’t even deserve to hide his stupid mistake.

“‘kay, so, little bro healed me, an’ it… made my joints fall apart?”

“your magic couldn’t integrate the healing magic so iggy used a magic suppressant to keep both magics calm until they could integrate. it means there isn’t enough magic left to hold your joints in place, so the tape keeps them from separating.”

“Right. Tha’s good, I guess. That my joints won’ come apart.” He tries to lift an arm, then his good eyelight dilates when it won’t move.

Noticing Twist’s quickening breathing, Blackberry hurries to move the conversation along. “So everything is going to be just fine, and now it’s time for Cash to go home and for you to get some sleep, and everything will be just fine in the morning.”

Cash glances over at him, startled. “i don’t have anywhere i need to be.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s late and you must be tired. You should go home and go to bed. I have everything under control here.”

“didn’t we have this conversation last night?”

“Yes, and now it’s night again, so you should go home.”

“i’ve been home all day. what have you been doing in all that time?”

“Oh, you know, taking care of Papy, working on his smoothies, getting some sleep, playing some cards, chatting. It’s all gone quite well, until the end, of course, but I’ve learned from my mistake and won’t ever be doing that again. Other than that, it’s been no trouble at all.”

“Been sleepin’, have ya, bro?” Twist challenges.

“Oh, you hush. I’ve had plenty of sleep. You woke up before me this morning, remember?”

“When did ya… go ta sleep?”

“Last night!”

“No, jus’…” Twist sighs, and closes his eyes.

“so you haven’t gotten enough sleep?”

“I have too. Papy is just being overprotective.

Cash looks suspicious. Why would he be suspicious? “hm. do you think that might affect your decision-making ability?”

“No! I’ve had plenty of sleep for making good decisions. What are you implying?”

“nothing. just seems like babysitting twist is a pretty high-demand job for someone who isn’t sleeping at night. it could lead to choices that are less than ideal.”

“I made one mistake! One big mistake, but… Papy, you don’t think I can’t take care of you anymore, do you?”

Twist’s good socket slits open. “Nah, bro. Not sayin’ that. Jus’ want ya ta… take care a yerself, too.”

“and I think you should consider whether you’re keeping yourself in any kind of condition to take care of your brother.”

“Of course I am.”

“so you’re saying you would normally go behind your brother’s back to do something to him that he explicitly told you not to do, all because you thought you knew better?”

“No!” He wouldn’t! Would he? Oh stars, would he? Surely not, not with anything this important. Sometimes he has to help guide Twist away from bad decisions, but that’s entirely different <strike>even though that’s exactly what he thought he was doing this time, too.</strike>

“then you’re sleep-deprived.”

“I am not. You just want me to go away so you can be alone with my brother to do… to do…” 

“to do what?” Cash’s working socket narrows.

“You know!”

“think about what you’re implying. think about the condition Twist is in, and what you are implying i’ll do if you leave me alone with him, and if that’s really what you want to accuse me of.”

“Not like _that_! It’s just… look. I’m sure you’ve realized that Papy is a little… free with his affections.”

“which i’m sure he appreciates you saying while he’s trying not to pass out right next to you.”

“Will you stop interpreting everything I say in the worst possible way? I’m just saying, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for my brother, but with the condition he’s in I think that I should be the one taking care of him. Thank you for getting him out of Iggy’s lab, and thank you for helping me deal with her today and helping me fix my very stupid mistake, but I’ve got it handled from here. I promise I’ll call you if we need anything.”

“twist?” It’s nice that he’s checking for Twist’s opinion, but Twist has lost the battle with sleep.

“I’ll let him know that you said good night. You can come visit tomorrow if you’d like.”

“great. thanks for your permission. i’m leaving now.”

“Thank you again for all your help. Good night.” Cash teleports away. 

He seems less than thrilled about being sent home again, but what is Blackberry supposed to do, just leave someone else to take care of his brother? That would be terribly irresponsible. He’s already made one terrible decision about Twist. He’s not going to make another. After checking that everything he might need is in its place, he settles in for another night of guarding against nightmares.


	19. Chapter 19

Twist isn’t asleep for more than a few minutes before the nightmares start. The first one is easy; Blackberry catches it at the first whimper and soothes it away with LOVE/COMFORT/CARE/SAFETY. The next one, though, just starts with a twitch. It’s just a little movement, nothing remarkable, and Blackberry doesn’t think anything of it, doesn’t recognize it for what it is. He idly considers getting some tea to help keep himself awake. Then it happens again. This one does catch his attention.

“Brother?” he whispers. What’s wrong now? Are the sparks starting again? Did the suppressant wear off early? He pulls back Twist’s blanket to check his ribcage for sparks or agitated magic. Nothing.

Twist moans and twitches again, more forcefully this time. “Papy?” Maybe he needs to wake up? He needs sleep, but what if something is wrong that Blackberry can’t see? Rubbing the sleep from his own eyes, Blackberry leans in towards Twist’s ribcage to look more closely. Surely it’s not starting again. The suppressant was supposed to keep that from happening. Absently, he rests a hand on Twist’s ribs.

Twist shrieks. Startled, Blackberry leaps away from the bed, crashing into the chair. “Sorry! Oh, stars, I keep hurting you. I’m so sorry, brother.” He clambers back up on the bed. Twist stares at him with empty sockets. “Brother?” He gets no response.

“Papy? It’s Blackberry. Sans. Are you… is something wrong? More than it already was, I mean? Are you hurt?” Twist doesn’t move. “Papy? I wish you would answer me. You don’t have to talk, but I’d really appreciate getting some kind of response. Maybe you could blink, or something?” Twist does not blink. “That’s okay. It’s alright if you don’t want to move. It isn’t disturbing at all to be stared at like that. Not at all. Just… could you please just let me know if something’s wrong? I promise I’ll find a way to help.” Twist doesn’t move. Maybe he’s not really awake? Then why are his sockets open?

“Okay, brother. It’s alright,” Blackberry soothes. “Maybe you don’t feel like moving right now. That’s okay.” He winces as Twist’s bones begin to rattle. “I’m just going to cover you up again, okay? You probably need to keep warm.” He pulls the blanket back up to Twist’s collarbone. Twist’s brow bones furrow. “Brother?”

Twist shifts under the blanket, then freezes. “Papy?” The rattling gets worse. “What’s wrong?” Magic wells in Twist’s broken socket. “Brother?”

***

Twist can’t move. It’s… why can’t he move? Why… what… what did he do? Oh shit, what did he do; what did he fuck up now? Why’s she doing this, what does she want, how can he fix it, how can he get out? She keeps doing this and it makes no sense. Why does she keep tying him up? Sure, it’s probably funny, gets her off, great, but he’s useless this way. She has to want something. There has to be something he can do to make it stop. There has to be a way out, he has to get out, _get out get out get out get out GET OUT please no more just let me out please just anything to get out_, no, not _anything_. She can do worse than this, she can, but she keeps tying him up so he can’t move, can’t even breathe, and it won’t stop. Every time he thinks it’s over she puts him back because she won’t ever let him leave.

But maybe it can be better. Maybe it's already better? Sans is here and Sans loves him, he knows it and he feels it in his soul, /LOVE/COMFORT/PROTECTION/HOPE/ washing over him, maybe… can’t move. He can’t move, oh stars he can’t move, can’t stop her from doing anything. Sans can’t be here, please Sans don’t be here please go away go away can’t protect you please_ can’t move!_

She keeps putting him back. She’s so mad. Why’s she so mad? Nothing he does is ever right; he just ends up back here again every time he gets out. Why’s she so mad?

It’s because he left, shouldn’t have left, knew she’d find him but he couldn’t stay. He thought he could do it, could get away and find Sans but he clearly couldn’t, or he _did_ but now he’s back and _what happened to Sans?_ <strike>We could always use another sweetpeice, dearie</strike> No no _no_ she can’t have him, she _can’t_. Just because Twist fucked it all up with that job and ran away... like he really thought he could run away from her and she wouldn’t find them? So fucking stupid, and now she has them and he can’t move, oh _fuck_ he can’t move and it’s all around him, suffocating and he wants to rip it off but he can’t move his arms and spider silk is so strong. There’s no way to break it without leverage and he can’t get any because he can’t move, oh fuck he can’t move, can’t scream, don’t scream because she wants him to scream, but get it off get it off get it off, can’t get it off _can’t move!_

The world spins inside his skull and his socket burns, the broken one that she broke, she had them break it but she broke it and she wants to break it more, just take apart his skull and leave the pieces rattling around inside it. Rattling, he’s rattling, but not proper rattling because it’s muffled because she won’t let him move and each time she lets him out it’s not good enough so she puts him back in so he’ll never move, needs to move, needs out but he doesn’t know which way is up and he can’t move and it’s all spinning.

Everything’s spinning and his mana lines burn and they’re empty, shriveling up and pulling something from inside of him… spinning and burning and… spinning… and… empty and… blank.

…

Oh _fuck_ it hurts! Fire fills his soul, overflowing into dried out mana lines, forcing them open as he tries to get away, tries to fight but he can’t move, something sticky pulling every joint, maybe the fire will burn it so he can get away haha_ha_ like anyone ever gets away. Is that what she did, wrap him in silk and set him on fire? He’d burn with the spider silk but he doesn’t _care_.

Why? Why why why why why why why? He didn’t fuck up badly enough for this, he didn’t, even last time she didn’t want to incinerate him, just break him so he'd still be useful. She broke him, but he put himself back together and he left, oh fuck he left, so maybe this is revenge. No, please no, because if she found him then she found Sans and that can’t happen, Sans wrapped in silk and burning, screaming, can’t stand to hear him screaming, no wait that’s just Twist, he’s the one screaming. Stop that, don’t give her the satisfaction. Heh, one more failure on top of the others.

“Papy?”

Oh stars, no, he’s here, and he’s crying. Please don’t. “Don’ cry.”

“I’m sorry, Papy. I shouldn’t be crying, I just didn’t know the injection would hurt you so much. I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I tried to help with the nightmare, but I waited too long so I don’t think it really helped much, and I’m so sorry about all of this. The tape can come off in the morning, and your magic will be back to normal…” He keeps talking but Twist can’t follow it. Tape, it’s tape, not webs or chains or a fucking trunk, just tape.

Just… why’d she tape him? Of all the weird fucking things she could have done, why tape? Some weird new kink? Skeleton arts and crafts? <strike>Just block out the thought of parts pulled off and taped where they aren’t supposed to go. She wants him useful so she’s not going to break him beyond repair.</strike> He’s so fucking sick of being the plaything for all her fantasies, even if this one doesn’t hurt, except for the fire. What happened to the fire? But even if it doesn’t hurt anymore, she’s more than made sure that being tied up is never going to be more than a hellish nightmare, and oh _fuck_ he can’t move, trying just pulls on the webs around his joints and he can’t move, please, don’t want to do this don’t want to “don’ wanna.” Like that will help.

“You don’t want to what?”

“Don’ want… I… what’cha think I don’t want? Don' play fuckin’ coy with me. Just get on with it,” he demands.

Someone gasps. Now she’s going to act all offended? He hates these games, hates them, and playing along is the only way to get out, _please let me out._ “I’m not! Why would you think…? I’m just trying to help!” <strike>I’m helping you and all you ever do is complain about it!</strike> No, that’s not her, that’s the other one that likes to slice him into pieces and set him on fire, that’s… who the fuck is he talking to?

“Who…?” Oh shit he’s dizzy. Everything is spinning and his mana lines are burning. He tries to hold his head but he can’t move his arms, oh fuck get it off get it off get it off–

“Hold still! Please, Papy, please hold still, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Hurts, it hurts, he’s empty and it hurts, and he’s so dizzy. His ears are ringing, no, something is screeching. It hurts his head, his empty skull, everything is so empty it burns. It’s… empty… all empty…

“Hold on! Please hold on brother, I’ve almost got it, just give me a second, I promise it’ll just take a second, please.”

Why…? Empty… need… please… can’t… hands on his soul. Don’t touch… sharp… it’s… He screams as fire races through him again. It burns. He’s burning, his soul is burning, everything is burning. It’s too much, it won’t stop, and he can’t move stop stop stop please stop-

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, brother, I’m so sorry, I had to, you were going to die, I’m so sorry, please calm down, I know it hurts and I’m sorry –”

He’s not empty anymore but it still hurts. Why does everything hurt? Why can’t he move? Please stop please –

“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I never meant for this to happen but I should have listened and I’m so sorry.”

That’s Sans. Blackberry. He’s crying. Blackberry shouldn’t be here and shouldn’t be crying. He’s supposed to be safe, they both are, so why is he here and why is he crying?

“Why… crying?”

“Papy? Are you awake? I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you –”

“Don’ cry.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just you’re hurt so badly and it’s my fault and –”

“Don’ cry!”

“I… I’m sorry?” Blackberry whimpers.

Twist _hates_ talking to him like that, but it’s important. He opens his eyes to make sure he has his brother’s attention. “Don’ let her know yer here.”

“Don’t let who know I’m here?” Who does he think?

“The boss!”

“The… boss? What boss? We don’t have a boss.”

“What boss do ya think it is? Muffet.” Blackberry gasps.

“Oh no, no no no, she isn’t here. Did you think she was here? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. We aren’t with Muffet. We’re in our house on the surface. You left Muffet and Undyne helped me get back to you, remember?” Yeah, but that can’t be the end of it or he wouldn't be here.

“She found us on the surface?”

“No! She’s never come anywhere near us on the surface.”

“Then why’m I covered in spider webs?”

“You’re not! It's medical tape. I can see the similarity and I’m so sorry we had to do that but I promise there are no spider webs and no Muffet.”

“How d’ya know?”

“I’m pretty sure I would remember seeing her in your bedroom.”

“You saw it?” Blackberry nods. “You were here?” He nods again. “Fuck, get out!”

Blackberry leans back in shock. “What? Why?”

“Get out! Ya can’t be here when she’s doin’… whatever she’s doin’. Ya can’t! Get out!” And now he’s too dizzy to make him leave. What’s wrong with him? Some kind of spider venom? Something’s wrong with both of them. It has to be.

Blackberry is indignant. “I’m not leaving you. I can’t believe you think I would. I mean…” he sniffs, “Oh, brother, I’m so sorry you think I might leave you. I promise I wouldn’t ever, even if there was something to be afraid of, but I promise there isn’t because it’s just the two of us alone in our house on the surface. The only other people who have been here are Cash and Iggy.” A shiver runs through Twist at that. Maybe it wasn’t Muffet. Maybe it was Iggy. But no, Iggy wants to help him, but look at everything she did when she tried to help, so maybe she could have done it, but why? He cooperated. Doesn’t matter, Blackberry shouldn’t see this, shouldn’t see him like this, isn’t supposed to know because he shouldn’t see his big brother helpless. Maybe that’s why he’s crying.

“Please don’ cry.” It’s just too much. Too many failures shoved in his face and he can’t move, and he’s too dizzy to keep it all straight.

“I’m sorry. I can’t stop. Please don’t worry. I’m just fine and no one is here to hurt either of us, and you’ll be better in the morning and then I can take the tape off and everything will be fine.”

“You c’n take it off?”

“In the morning.”

“Won’ get in trouble?”

“Of course not. There’s no one to get in trouble from.”

“Don’ get in trouble.”

“I won’t.”

“Please don’ get in trouble.” This can’t happen to Blackberry. It can’t it can’t it can’t it can’t.

“I won’t get in trouble! Please just breathe.” Did he stop? Maybe. He’s dizzy. “I promise I won’t do anything to get in trouble. Please trust me that we aren’t in danger.”

“She’ll come back!” Why won’t he listen? She’s back and Twist can’t protect either of them and –

“No she will not! She isn’t back and she’s not coming back and even if she did she wouldn’t be back for long because I’m not letting her anywhere near you!” Nonononononono.

“No, ya, ya can’t… I – don’ fight her, jus’ leave, just… ya can’t!”

“I most certainly can. I’m not the helpless little child that I was back then and I have ways of doing what needs to be done.” _No!_ It’s not supposed to be like that. “So don’t you worry one little bit about Muffet or anyone else. We’re safe in our own home and _no one_ is coming in here without my permission. I don’t like fighting but I am _sick_ of you being hurt and me not being able to do anything about it, so I _am_ going to take care of you and no one is going to come in here and get in my way. Not even _her_. Just let her try it.” For a moment, Blackberry could pass for a more traditional member of the royal guard.

Twist’s jaw drops as he blinks at Blackberry in shock. What happened to his sweet baby brother?

“Uhh… bro?”

“Yes?”

“Didja know yer kinda awesome?”

“Of course! I’m the Sensational Sans!”

“That ya are. But, uh, just… please don’ go screwin’ yerself up ‘cause of me.”

“I have no intention of doing so, but that doesn’t mean I’m letting anyone hurt you again. Ever. Oh, Papy, you’re hurt so badly, and I made it worse. I can’t believe I did that.” The royal guard look vanishes with a sniff.

“‘s okay. Ya didn’t know.” The reassurance is out of his mouth the moment he remembers what Blackberry is apologizing for. No way is he letting his little brother beat himself up over this mess.

“You told me!”

“I didn’ know either.”

“But you told me you didn’t want me to and that it might be dangerous, and I didn’t even check, and here I am talking about not letting anyone hurt you and I hurt you.”

“Ain’t too bad. Didn’t ya say I’d be better by mornin’?”

“Yes, but you should be sleeping right now, and instead you’re awake and worrying about Muffet, and I know how much it upsets you to be trapped or tied up or anything.” Thanks for the reminder. He’d actually managed to forget that for a moment. He forces down the terror. “I tried to get her to find another way but it’s just too dangerous for you to move around with your magic suppressed so we had to but –”

“Bro! I get it. I hate it, but I get it. Muffet ain’t here an’ ya had ta let Iggy tape me t’gether but it can come off in the mornin’. Probly gonna ferget again but I get it.”

“Okay. I just really wish there was something I could do to help. I tried to help you get out of a nightmare earlier but it didn’t work. I guess you were too far into it to feel any projections?”

“Probly. Maybe try again? I ain’t in one now, an’ I’m kinda tired.” More like dizzy with his ears ringing and exhaustion pulling every limb down into the bed, but close enough.

“Good idea. I’ll make sure to keep it going so you don’t have any more bad dreams.”

“No. Bad idea. Ya can’t keep doin’ that every night. Ya gotta sleep too.”

“I can sleep when you’re better.”

“How much better do I gotta get? The tape’ll come off but we’re gonna have the same problem t’morrow as last night.”

“Well I’m certainly not leaving you alone tonight.” That’s probably for the best with the way hundreds of invisible legs have started scrabbling across his ribs again, but when does Blackberry plan to sleep?

“At least don’ wear yerself out projectin’ all night. I’m getting’ worried ‘bout ya, little bro.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.”

“But bro –”

“Sleep.” Then he turns up the projections, and Twist is much too tired to resist.

***

Blackberry keeps the projections going until he’s absolutely certain that Twist is asleep. How could he let it get so bad? Twist was so scared, and then he thought Muffet had found them! Blackberry shudders. That would send anyone into a panic attack. And why shouldn’t he think that, with everything being so terrible? How can he feel safe anywhere if he can’t even trust his own little brother?

Why did Blackberry do that? It was so stupid. It’s one thing when Twist is just being self-destructive and needs Blackberry to protect him from himself <strike>but isn’t that what he thought he was doing?</strike> Ignoring Twist just out of a misguided idea that he knew better when he clearly didn’t was just abhorrent. Well, it can’t be helped, but Blackberry can do better in the future, starting with doing a better job of watching for nightmares.

“You’ll be alright, Papy. Just sleep. You’re safe, and,” he yawns, “the Sensational Sans will _not_ be falling asleep on the job. Not one bit.” If only the Sensational Sans had thought to make some tea before sending Cash away. Surely Cash could have handled watching Twist for a few minutes. <strike>He did better than Blackberry did.</strike> Oh well, it’s really best to keep something like this between brothers. With Twist being so afraid of everything and having so much trouble keeping track of what’s going on, it’s probably best not to have a parade of people coming through his room. Even if Blackberry could really use some tea. Maybe in the morning it will be safe to leave Twist alone for a few minutes.

The monitor alarm blaring again almost stops his soul, and emphasizes why it’s absolutely not safe to leave Twist alone right now. Blackberry hurriedly pulls another magic infusion from its case. Iggy wasn’t kidding when she said the suppressant could drain Twist’s HP. With trembling hands, Blackberry reaches into his brother’s ribcage and pulls out his soul. He hates this so much. Each time it hurts Twist and each time he panics. He’s so tired of hurting his brother.

Twist doesn’t react as he sticks in the needle, but he screams and shakes as the magic is injected, and Blackberry has to stop crying every time this happens because soon he’s not going to have any tears left and there are going to be plenty more reasons to cry before it’s over.

Eventually Twist stops screaming but he keeps struggling. Hopefully the tape will hold, because telling him to hold still hasn’t done any good at all. He’s just too upset.

“I’m sorry, Papy. I promise it will be better in the morning. I’m so sorry.”

Twist mumbles something.

“Brother? Are you awake?” Twist mumbles something else, and whimpers.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying. Do you need something?” Twist probably doesn’t understand what Blackberry is saying, either, but he won’t take the chance of Twist thinking he’s ignoring him.

Twist mumbles again, then his sockets open wide and he stares at the ceiling. “Can’t move.”

“I know you can’t move. I promise you’re safe and it will be better in the morning.”

“Can’t move.” His hands twitch.

“I know. I’ll stay right here and protect you, and as soon as your magic starts working again I’ll take all the tape off so you can move. I promise.”

Twist’s eyelight lights and darts towards Blackberry. “C’n I get out now?”

“Not yet. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as possible but we have to wait until your magic comes back. In the morning, I promise.” And hopefully Blackberry’s soul won’t shatter in the meantime from having to deny his brother something he needs so badly.

“What’d I gotta do?”

“Nothing. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing we can do to make it go any faster, so you just hold still and rest and morning will come soon.” For a moment, Twist’s face crumples, but then he returns to staring blankly at the ceiling as Blackberry watches helplessly.

They stay like that for awhile. Every once in a while Twist’s breathing speeds up or he tries to break some tape lose, but he quickly calms as soon as Blackberry tries to soothe him. At least, he seems calm. Blackberry suspects that if he was actually calm he wouldn’t be staring at the ceiling like it holds the horrors of the void. He doesn’t know for sure because Twist never speaks. Blackberry’s only attempt to soothe him with projections only makes Twist whimper and try to bury himself in the blankets, so he doesn’t try again.

After a few minutes of uninterrupted staring, Twist breaks his silence. “Please do somethin’ else.”

“Like what? Is there something I can do to help?”

“Whatever ya want. Jus’ not this.”

“Whatever I want?” That makes no sense. “I just want to help you feel better. That’s all I want.”

“Not whatever ya want. Tha’s stupid, shouldn’ta said that. ‘cept now ya will anyway. Jus’ do somethin’ else.”

“Like what?” Something isn’t connecting, but Blackberry isn’t sure what.

“Fuck me er somethin’.” Blackberry gasps. “C’n make it real good fer ya if ya just untie me.” Twist did not just say that. Nausea rises along with horror, but Blackberry forces it down.

“Brother?” And his voice did not just jump up two octaves, because there’s no reason for it to, because Twist did not just say that.

“Just… ya made yer point. ‘m stuck an’ I hate it. What’cha think yer gonna prove? This some kinda power play?”

“I–”

“Really think ya gotta do all this? What’cha think I’m gonna do, leave? Cut the crap an’ get on with it.”

“Brother, I–”

“Think I dunno who’s got the power here? Think ya gotta go on some little power trip ta keep me from runnin’ outta yer bed? I ain’t that stupid.”

“You’re not stupid! Why are you–?”

“Underground ain’t that big. I know what our chances are out there. ‘specially with you comin’ after us.” Oh stars, he doesn’t want to think about this.

“Papy, please stop. Please. We’re safe now. We’re safe on the surface, just you and me, and all of the gangs from underground are broken up, or at least they don’t have anything to do with us anymore, and we have the embassy to protect us and so many friends and the human police, and we can take care of ourselves, and please, _please_ believe me that we never have to see Muffet again. Please, brother, please just stop talking to her. She’s not here.”

“Jus’ lemme out,” Twist whimpers. He _whimpers_. He’s whimpering, and begging, and how can Blackberry’s big brother be hurt like this? How? _<strike>You know perfectly well how he’s hurt like this and you’ve always known</strike>__<strike>. Don’t **hide** just because he lets you</strike>__<strike>.</strike>_ “Jus’… whatever ya want. I… I c’n…”

“Brother…

“Lemme out. Lemme out!” Twist’s arms jerk as he tries to move them, straining the tape until a piece holding his ulna to his humerus comes loose, letting the bone shift ominously.

“Stop! Brother, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Grabbing the bones on either side of Twist’s elbow, Blackberry holds them together and reconnects the tape as Twist shrieks and writhes. Twist’s struggle to get away from Blackberry pulls more tape free. Every time Blackberry replaces a piece, another one comes loose.

“Papy, please stop. Please. I promise I’m not going to hurt you but you’re going to hurt yourself. Please just hold still.” There’s no indication that anything he says is getting through. Twist is going to tear himself apart.

“Brother!” How can he get through to him? Twist doesn’t even know he’s here. He probably just thinks he’s with Muffet. Blackberry can’t even get his attention, so how can he get him to calm down? He’s not going to believe he’s safe when he’s wrapped up so tightly, and he can’t even hear any reassurances. But he has to calm down. He has to! Or at least stop moving, because he’s surely not going to calm down as long as he thinks he’s with Muffet.

Then Blackberry has an idea. It’s a terrible idea. He’s not even sure he can bring himself to do it, but Twist has to stop moving. He has to.

Summoning up the most cloying, sickenly sweet voice he can find in the darkest depths of his memories, Blackberry forces out, “Papyrus.” Twist freezes. “Papyrus. Do you hear me?” The words drip from his mouth like rot, but if playing into this nightmare is the only way to keep Twist from permanent dismemberment, then that’s what he’s going to do.

Voice shaking, Twist answers, “Yeah, boss. I hear ya.” Yes, he’ll do it, even if it plays in his own nightmares for the rest of his life.

“You need to hold still.” Twist’s breathing speeds up, and his arms pull in towards his ribs, left humerus slipping ominously low in its socket.

“Don’t move!” Twist flinches at the command, sending guilt bleeding through Blackberry’s soul, but he doesn’t move again. Maybe he’s listening now?

“Papy?” Twist’s bones rattle and he grits his teeth, but he doesn’t respond to the name. “Brother, can you hear me?” Still no response. Then Twist tries to pull his arms in again.

“Don’t move!” The rattling gets worse at the shout, but Twist freezes in place, sockets wide. Tears burn in Blackberry’s own sockets, but Muffet wouldn’t be crying and she’s the only one Twist is listening to right now.

“Just hold still.” But no, that was said too gently so Twist won’t hear it, and it’s true that he’s shifting slightly, like he’s starting to forget the original command. “Hold still!”

Twist freezes again, although the rattling is a constant drone and and he’s shaking so hard he might as well still be moving. He just needs to hold still long enough for Blackberry to fix the tape, and then they can end this nightmare somehow.

Blackberry starts with the loose shoulder. It doesn’t feel right. Even with Blackberry holding both bones, they’re rattling so much that they won’t connect. They won’t connect! Terrified, he glances at the other joints that lost their tape. They’re all slipping! The rattling is pulling them loose!

“Stop shaking!” he shouts, and oh stars, Twist actually listens. The rattling stops, and Twist holds perfectly still, without breathing, without the slightest tremor. How is that even possible? How can anyone have that much control? How can Blackberry live with scaring his own brother so much that he thinks he has to have that much control? Oh stars, he can’t keep doing this. He can’t! But he has to.

Forcing down the magic rising in his throat, he hurriedly replaces the tape. “Papy? No. Papyrus! You can breathe again.” Immediately, Twist gasps, but the shaking does not resume. “Um, you can shake again, too. If you need to.” Twist frowns. That probably didn’t make much sense to him, but there’s no good way to phrase it as a command. “Ok, well, shake if you want to. Otherwise just lay there. And still don’t move.”

Is it safe to be himself again? Every moment of pretending to be Muffet is rotting away pieces of his soul. He’s not even doing a very good job of it, but all he wants to do is give his brother a hug and he can’t afford to do that because Twist has to listen to him about holding still.

Both skeletons remain silent and still for quite some time. In between checking that all of the tape is still in place, Blackberry contemplates far too many things that he never wants to think about with regard to his brother. Twist always tried so hard to keep him away from all of the bad sides of being with Muffet. They obviously existed, but it was always so much less painful to believe his brother’s happy, carefree front than to go digging for things he couldn’t do anything about. It's not like it ever did any good when he tried to say anything. Twist just kept insisting that everything was fine and wouldn’t think about leaving, at least until the end when it was too late. But sitting here pretending to be the monster who he _knows_ broke his brother makes it impossible to ignore.

Twist starts moving again, so Blackberry steels himself and snaps, “hold still!” Twist freezes, and Blackberry holds in a sob, and they both go back to waiting in silence. Several times, Twist’s sockets start to close, but he forces them back open each time. If only he would just go to sleep, maybe it would finally end.

“Please go to sleep, Papy,” Blackberry whispers, and it’s probably just as well that Twist doesn’t seem to hear it. It’s too dangerous to break the illusion. What if he can’t get it back? He tries again, putting on his best approximation of Muffet pretending to be comforting. “Go to sleep, d-dearie.” The last word can barely get past his teeth, but it’s the one that gets the most attention from Twist. He continues, forcing out every word, “if I wanted you to stay up all night, I’d have said so. Go to sleep.”

Twist blinks at him in confusion. “What’cha want, boss?”

Be Muffet. Just be Muffet. Just a little longer. “I want you to go to sleep, dearie.” Why might Muffet want him to go to sleep? Don’t think about it, just say it. “All I want you to do is to sleep and recover.” Don’t think about what he might think he’s recovering from. Don’t! “I’ll let you out in the morning.”

“Sure, boss.” There’s some skepticism in Twist’s tone, but he obediently shuts his eyes. Blackberry watches with bated breath as his brother’s breathing slows, until it finally reaches a steady rhythm that surely must mean he’s asleep. Then he barely makes it to the bathroom in time to empty what remains of his dinner.

***

Twist sleeps mostly soundly for the next few hours, Blackberry catching every nightmare as soon as it starts. Blackberry almost drifts off near midnight, before deciding that he’s just going to have to risk leaving for a few minutes to make some tea. Better that than falling asleep.

If he’s going to be gone, he might as well make a whole pot. He’s going to need it. Of course, the HP monitor blares again as soon as the kettle starts heating, and he rushes upstairs without turning it down, so by the time he’s refilled Twist’s magic, calmed the resulting panic, and finally gotten his brother back to sleep, he has a mess on his hands. He mechanically cleans the stove and starts a new pot, staying with it this time.

Maybe this was all a bad idea. Maybe he’s overestimated his own abilities. Twist needs help. What if he needs more help than Blackberry can give him? He absolutely does not know what he’s doing, and Twist is right that he can’t stay awake forever, and those nightmares and hallucinations…

But no, he has to. Just because it’s hard, just because it makes him uncomfortable, just because it’s absolutely sickening and makes him want to curl up in a little ball of panic just thinking about it, and normally Twist would help him with something like that but now Twist is the one who needs help and he can’t do it he can’t! But no, he has to. He’s not going to let the whole world see his brother like this just because he’s uncomfortable.

Their friends are great, and they would try to help, but they wouldn’t understand. They might misinterpret it, <strike>they might take advantage,</strike> no they would _not_ but they all act like sex is just some silly harmless game. Surely they would see that Twist is hurt and not in his right mind and this isn’t the _time_, but they always play into Twist’s self-destructive tendencies like they’re no big deal, like they can’t even hurt him. _<strike>You already hurt him all on your own, you useless little failure of a sweetpiece.</strike>_ What if they don’t understand? They won’t understand.

Blackberry doesn’t understand either, but at least he knows it’s bad and that Twist needs help. Surely they could see that. They would see how badly Twist is hurt, and some of them have clearly been hurt too, somehow or other, so surely they would know not to take advantage. Surely they would realize that it’s all just a reaction to how hurt and scared Twist is, but shouldn’t they know that already? How can they not know that sex hurts people? They treat it like a game, a joke, something fun and, and even _loving_ sometimes. They don't understand. Surely they wouldn’t do anything, but how can he know for sure?

_'Fuck me er somethin’__.'_ Twist was so scared, and he wanted sex so he wouldn’t have to be tied up anymore. And then Blackberry had to play right into it to keep him tied up, and Twist listened, and he could have told Twist to do anything as long as he kept pretending to be Muffet and _Twist would have listened!_ No one else should see that. Blackberry doesn’t want to see it either, doesn’t want the reminder of everything he always tried to pretend never happened because all he could do was pretend everything was fine because that was the only way he could help because Twist wouldn’t just leave or tell her no or let Blackberry help or –

The tea kettle whistles, and Blackberry looks up. Why does he need to look up to see the kettle? Oh, because he’s under the table, of course. Why is he under the table? That’s a silly place to be. He’s shaking. Why is he shaking? And he’s dizzy. Why is he dizzy? Maybe because he’s hyperventilating. Oh. How strange. The kettle won’t stop. He should probably do something about that. He sniffs. He really needs to stop crying. It makes Twist sad when he cries.

Twist! He has to get back to Twist! Quickly turning off the stove, he pours himself a cup of tea, and then several more for good measure, and carries them all up the stairs. Twist is still sleeping, thank the stars, and a quick check shows that his HP hasn't changed. Maybe the worst is over. He settles back into his chair with his tea.

Two cups of tea are enough to clear some of the fog from his skull. What was all that nonsense downstairs? Twist is going to be fine, and Blackberry has everything under control. Sipping from his third cup, he prepares himself for another night of nightmare duty.

Most nightmares easy to soothe away, as long as he catches them early enough. As long as he realizes what they are soon enough.

“Well which is it? Ya want my dick or ya want my tongue in yer cunt? Can’t have both at the same time.” Blackberry shudders and considers leaving the room, before hearing a strangled, “what, ya want my blood in yer cunt? Seems,” Twist gasps, “seems unsanitary.” What is he listening to? That’s horrifying. Shaking himself out of his stunned horror, he starts projecting desperately as Twist screams.

“Fuck! Ya can’t just… I can’t… Fuck! Ain’t arguin’, I ain’t, jus’ can’t…” Twist trails off in a whimper, and Blackberry barely keeps down the tea he just drank. He can’t listen to this. He can’t. “Tryna break my dick or somethin’? Think yer gonna want it later.” He’s listening to his brother be raped. Oh stars, his brother is dreaming about being raped, and he waited too long to do anything about it so now the projections aren’t getting through, and if he tries to wake him up he’ll either think he has to protect him from Muffet or think that he _is_ Muffet, and Blackberry just can’t.

“I’m so sorry, brother. I’m so sorry I can’t help you. I’m sorry I waited too long to stop this dream, and I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you in the first place, and I’m sorry if you thought we had to stay there because you needed to keep me somewhere safe and I'm sorry you thought you had to pretend everything was fine and I’m sorry if you thought it didn’t matter as long as you were the only one getting hurt and I’m just so sorry. I love you Papy. You’re the best brother in the whole world and nothing bad ever should have happened to you and I should have been a better brother. I should _be_ a better brother and I promise I will be. I’m so sorry. I love you so much brother. I love you and I wish you could hear me. I love you.”

“Bro?” Twist’s voice is hoarse, and hesitant, and confused, but it’s the most beautiful thing Blackberry has ever heard because Twist is looking at him and talking to him and doesn’t seem afraid of him.

“Papy?”

“You okay?” Is _Blackberry_ okay? Why would Twist ask that? Well, maybe because of the tears streaming down Blackberry’s face. He has to stop crying about every single thing that happens. Twist is the one who should be crying, but he can't. He probably wouldn't even if he could.

“I’m fine, brother. Are… how are you doing?” Because he can’t possibly be okay. He was just dreaming about... He can't possibly be okay.

“Can’t move.” Please don’t start that again. Please.

“I know. You’ll be okay. Just a few more hours, and then I can let you out.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I swear on my soul, and on the angel, and the stars, and every single thing anyone can swear on. I’m going to let you out, and I’m going to stay with you, and we are both completely safe in our house on the surface, and everything will be just fine, so please don’t be scared. We’ll all be just fine. I promise.”

“Okay. Love ya, little bro. Yer the best brother.” Twist smiles as he closes his eyes.

“You're an even better brother. I… I love you too, brother.” Blackberry sniffs, knowing he already said it but needing to say it again.

Twist’s good socket slits open just long enough to mumble, “Don’ cry. Better in the mornin’,” before drifting shut again.

Blackberry nods and states with determination, “It will be. Goodnight.” Twist doesn’t answer, likely already asleep, but Blackberry feels a little better. Twist believes in him, just like he believes in Twist. They’re going to make it through this because they’re brothers and they love each other. They’ve made it through everything else, even when it seemed impossible, and they’re going to make it through this too. They’re going to make it, and then everything will be better. Blackberry will make sure of it.


	20. Chapter 20

The first thing Twist notices when he wakes up is that he’s still wrapped in spider silk. The second thing he notices is that it probably isn’t spider silk because Blackberry probably wouldn’t be calmly sipping tea while reading a book if Twist was wrapped in spider silk. The third thing he notices is that he really doesn’t care if it’s spider silk because it’s all over his body and he can’t move and he needs it off _now_.

“Bro?” Blackberry keeps reading his book. It looks more like staring absently at a spot on the page than reading, really, but he doesn’t react to Twist’s call. “Hey, bro? Uh, bro? Couldja… uh… little help here? Please?” Not the best attempt at communication, but he can’t _think_. Panic simmers just underneath the surface, barely suppressed, telling him to fight against bonds that he knows aren’t going to break, never mind what she would do to him for breaking them without permission. No, that’s not… she’s not here and she never was. It’s just hard to remember with sticky strands wrapped through his bones, taking away even the illusion that he has any control over his own body, that it’s ever been anything but hers-

No. Shove that shit right back where it belongs. She’s long gone and none of this has anything to do with her. Even if her presence clings to his thoughts like the webs that are absolutely _not_ all over his body right now, and he needs _out_, anything to get out, <strike>anything?</strike>

“Bro!” Blackberry startles at the shout, dropping the book and barely holding on to his tea. “Bro?”

Blackberry’s eyelights dart frantically around the room before finally settling on Twist. “Oh, brother! You’re awake!” he exclaims, before hesitantly continuing, “You are awake, aren’t you?”

“Far as I know. Uh, bro, I… I got a problem. Uh, ‘m kinda, kinda stuck in somethin’, an’ I can’t move and I…” There’s not enough air. There’s never enough air, and his ribs are all stuck together so he can’t breathe and he can’t _move_.

“Papy, shh, come on, everything is alright, but you need to breathe. You’re okay, everything is just fine, you just need to breathe. I promise everything will be just fine, just breathe and then I can explain everything. Just breathe, please.”

But he can’t breathe! There’s no air and his ribs won’t move. Nothing will move because he’s trapped where air can’t get in and it hurts and it’s dark and he can’t move –

“Please calm down, brother, please. I promise it’s okay. Please don’t do this again. It’s morning so I think I can take the tape off but I think we need to be careful so I really need you to calm down.” Sans needs him to calm down. Calming down is impossible with webs threaded through his bones, but Sans needs him to calm down. Blackberry, Blackberry needs him to calm down because Sans is Blackberry now and they’re on the surface and there aren’t any webs and everything will be fine if he can just calm down. But if they’re on the surface, how did this happen?

“Bro?” He might have whimpered. He should really stop doing that. It’s not very big-brotherly. “Why can’t I move?”

“Because there’s a lot of medical tape holding your bones together. Your magic was suppressed last night so it wasn’t strong enough to hold them together by itself, so we reinforced the joints with medical tape. Iggy said it would recover by morning, so we can probably take the tape off now. Are you ready to try it?

“Yeah.” Take it off or he’s going to tear it off, and considering how he’s been doing with physical activity lately he’ll probably end up breaking his ribs or something.

Blackberry grins nervously. “I guess that was a silly question. Okay, um… I guess I’ll start… I don’t really know. Where do you want me to start?” Don’t care, don’t care, just get it off!

“Please calm down. I know it’s hard, but you have to stay calm. I don’t know how stable your magic is yet, so you need to hold still, and you really need to breathe. Come on, Papy, deep breaths. You can do it.”

“Can’t, I can’t,” Twist forces out. “Can’t breathe.”

“Yes you can. Come on, bother, I know you can do it. Is the tape on your ribs making it harder? I’ll start there, and you just try to hold still and breathe.” Twist nods, and concentrates on holding still. It becomes a mantra as Blackberry carefully unwinds the tape from his bones, _hold still, deep breaths, hold still, deep breaths,_ until the last piece of tape is pulled away and he can finally relax.

“Thanks, bro.”

“Of course, brother.” Blackberry smiles shakily. “Would you like some water?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Blackberry holds a water bottle up to Twist’s mouth and supports it until Twist is steady enough to hold it himself. The cool liquid running down his throat soothes his soul and helps anchor him in the present.

“Think water’s turnin’ inta my favorite drink.”

“You do seem to enjoy it.”

“Told Cash we should try ta sell this stuff, but he thought it’d be too much work ta get people ta buy it.”

“To buy tap water that’s been sitting out over night?”

Twist nods.

“He’s probably right.” Blackberry giggles, but his heart isn’t in it.

“Hey, bro? Ya doin’ okay?”

“Of course. I’m just fine, brother.”

“Ya sure?”

“Yes. I’m not the one who… I’m fine.” Well, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.

“The one who what?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” That doesn’t answer the question. “I’m just so sorry I let this happen in the first place.”

“Sorry?” Hopefully he hasn’t spent all night blaming himself.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Maybe?” Free of the confines of the medical tape, it’s easier to think about recent events. At least the real ones. Probably the real ones. “Think so. Think I kinda fell apart fer awhile. But don’t worry ‘bout it. Much as it sucked, I don’ think lit’rally fallin’ apart woulda been much better.”

Blackberry still looks worried. “But you wouldn’t have been in danger of falling apart in the first place if I hadn’t made such a terrible mistake.” He definitely has spent all night blaming himself. Shit, Twist really isn’t feeling up for damage control.

“You were just tryna help, bro. You couldn’ta known what would happen.” Even though Twist _told_ him not to do it, but no one ever listens to him and he’s not going to blame the one person who really was just trying to help. Blackberry always means well, even if he doesn’t always go about it in the best way.

“I could have checked. I mean, I asked you at least three times, and you said no each time, so shouldn’t that have told me something was wrong? I just completely ignored what you wanted and decided I knew best. I’m so sorry, brother. That was just completely inexcusable.”

Twist sighs. Why couldn’t this wait until he’s at least sure what actually happened and what was just a nightmare? But it can’t, because he’s not going to leave Blackberry upset. “Wouldn’t go that far. Woulda been nice if you’d listened, but I dunno much more ‘n you do, so maybe ya coulda been right.” Probably not, and Twist did explain why he didn’t think healing was a good idea, which seems like it should have mattered at least a little since he was the one who needed healed, but that’s not enough of a reason for all this guilt.

“But I wasn’t right, and I at least should have checked. Cash, even Iggy, they both know I should have checked instead of ignoring you like I did.” Now _that’s_ not going to fly.

“They say somethin’ to ya? They better not be actin’ like ya did somethin’ awful just ‘cause ya didn’t wanna see me hurtin’.” Even if it did lead to a night from hell. But Blackberry never needs to know just how bad it was. He’s blaming himself enough already.

“All they did was point out what I should have realized for myself, which is that I should have listened to you. I didn’t want to hear it, but I needed to hear it. I should have listened to you.” Yeah, but still…

“Look, it woulda been nice, but it ain’t yer fault–”

“How is it not my fault that I did the exact opposite of what you asked me to do?” Why does everyone always want to argue when Twist feels like shit?

“You just wanted ta help. You always just wanna help. ‘s one of the great things about ya, bro, an’ it’s hard fer some people ta un’erstand that, but I get it and I ain’t gonna blame ya just ‘cause it went wrong this one time.”

“It more than went wrong! Papy, you spent all night having terrible nightmares,” well, fuck, so much for playing that part down, “and that’s after I messed up your magic so badly that Iggy had to suppress it so that it could barely hold your bones together, and I almost didn’t even tell anyone what caused it because I was so embarrassed that I’d done something so stupid, and then who knows what might have happened? You probably would have died, and it would be all my fault.”

“Aw, little bro, c’mon. Ya can’t take all ‘a that on yerself. You made a mistake. Jus’ one little mistake, an’ I’m better now, so we don’ gotta worry ‘bout it no more. You can’t help that it caused a few more problems than ya thought.” A few, yeah, and he’s sticking to that. Blackberry is feeling way too guilty as it is, and he doesn’t need to know about any of that other bullshit.

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be mad at me! I did something terrible!”

“Well I ain’t.” Maybe a little, but that’s just life. It’s not worth letting his brother feel like shit. “Look, I’m fine now, so there’s no reason ta keep beatin’ yerself up just ‘cause I didn’t get my point across well enough. Been terrible at that, lately.”

Blackberry freezes, skull tilted. “Papy?”

“Yeah?” What’s with that tone? Someone who didn’t know Blackberry might call it flat, but to Twist it sounds worried.

“You’re not implying that it’s _your_ fault that I didn’t listen to you, are you?” Is that what’s wrong?

“Nah, bro. I’m just sayin’ it’s no one’s fault, really. You didn’t listen, and I didn’ make myself clear, and neither of us really knows what we’re doin’.” If anything, Blackberry just looks more concerned.

“Papy?”

“Yeah?” How long are they going to keep doing this? What else is there to say about it? Twist is so tired.

“You told me three times not to heal you. You explained why you thought it was a bad idea. I agreed not to do it. Then I waited until you were asleep to heal you anyway because I knew you would object to me doing it. How, exactly, is that you not making yourself clear?”

“Well it didn’t work, did it?” Blackberry’s face crumples. “No, bro, I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t! It’s just that I ain’t doin’ a very good job of convincin’ anybody of anythin’, lately. Shoulda seen me with Iggy.” Blackberry buries his face in his hands. “Tha’s not what I meant! I don’ mean yer actin’ like Iggy! Yer not! Shit, bro, ‘course yer not. All yer tryna do is help me, and she wants ta help but she wants this cure ta work more. Which I want too, don’ ferget, but she ain’t one bit concerned ‘bout how I’m feelin’, and that’s all you were worried ‘bout. So don’ go comparin’ yerself ta her.” Fuck, he’s screwing everything up. He’s too tired for this, and whisps of nightmares keep drifting through his skull, but he can’t just leave Blackberry blaming himself for everything.

“But that’s exactly how I acted. You told me exactly what you wanted and I ignored you because I thought I knew better. That’s not your fault, it’s mine, and you’re the one who paid for my mistake, and I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t look like you had a great night, either, bro.” Blackberry’s sockets look twice their normal size from the dark circles underneath them, and the hand holding the teacup is shaking just slightly.

“Hmm? Oh, no, I’m perfectly fine. I just need a little more tea.” He proceeds to pour the rest of the cup down his throat, and then to choke on it.

“Alright there, little bro?” Hopefully it wasn’t hot tea.

“Just fine, brother!” Blackberry coughs, then sets down his empty teacup and picks up a new one.

“Maybe take yer time on that one, huh?”

“Maybe.” Blackberry grins sheepishly.

“How many ‘a those have ya had tanight?”

“Not too many. Just enough to keep me awake.”

“Maybe that means ya shouldn’t be stayin’ awake so long.”

“Well I could hardly leave you alone.”

“Why not? Only thing that’s gonna dust me is a big HP drop, an’ ya ain’t gonna sleep through that alarm.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t have killed you, but I don’t think you’d be happy to be missing an arm right now.”

Twist winces. “Yeah, that does sound bad. My arm tried ta come off?”

“Along with some other parts.” Blackberry shudders.

“How’d that happen? Wasn’t that the whole point of all of that damn tape?”

“You had some really bad dreams, and you tried to move around a lot, and also, well, you were kind of shaking a lot, so some of the tape came off, and the joints were really loose, so I think they would have come apart if I wasn’t there to fix the tape and get you to calm down, because you had a lot of trouble holding still. Not that you didn’t try, but you were really upset.”

“Ya got me ta calm down in the middle of a nightmare? Those projections ‘a yers musta really been somethin’.”

Blackberry glances away. It’s quick, but definitely there. “Yes, the projections, right. You were having a nightmare but I calmed you down with projections, and then you went right back to sleep.”

Twist’s sockets narrow. “Ya sure that’s exactly what happened? Didn’t ya tell me yesterday that that only works if ya catch it early enough?”

“I did!” Blackberry nods. A lot. “I was very vigilant and caught it very early.” Uh huh. Something isn’t lining up.

“If ya caught it so early, how come I was shakin’ so bad my joints tried ta come apart?” Blackberry won’t meet Twist’s eyes at all now. What is he trying to hide, and more importantly, why? And why can’t it wait until Twist is awake enough to banish the clinging tendrils of those dreams? Never mind. Big brother duty calls.

“I didn’t catch it early enough for that, which I’m very sorry for, but I did manage to calm you down. I promise I caught it as soon as I could. I really did. Please believe me, brother.” Why is he so upset, and why is he insisting on a story that doesn’t line up? It doesn’t line up, does it? Twist still might not be thinking clearly <strike>with spiders crawling around in his skull</strike>, but Blackberry’s behavior is just weird.

“’Course I believe ya. Ain’t accusin’ ya of lyin’. I’m sure ya did great. I’m just tryna figure out what happened.”

“Nothing happened! Everything was just fine and nothing happened! Why would you think something happened?” Okay, that’s a sign that even Twist’s foggy skull can’t miss.

“Well I was just wonderin’ before, but now I know fer sure that somethin’ happened. What’s all this about, little bro?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s about anything because nothing happened. I don’t know why you keep insisting that something happened, because nothing did.” That wouldn’t be reassuring even if Blackberry didn’t look and sound on the verge of panic.

“I ain’t insistin’ on anythin’, but yer actin’ really weird. Please tell me what’s wrong, bro. Whatever it is can’t be that bad, an’ if it is then we c’n fix it.” But what could it possibly be? Twist’s best guess is a disturbing nightmare, but Blackberry has seen those before and didn’t try to pretend that it never happened. He only does that with shit that he really can’t handle, like Twist getting close to losing himself to his LV or anything to do with… oh, _fuck_.

“Bro. Sans. What happened?” Oh stars, anything but that, but what else could it be with him tied up in bed and with what he vaguely remembers dreaming about?

“Nothing! Nothing happened!” Something definitely did. Something bad.

“C’mon, bro. I know somethin’ happened. Don’ keep draggin’ it out. What happened?”

“Nothing! It was nothing. You just had some bad dreams, some really bad dreams, and I don’t like seeing you hurt, and I’m overreacting to everything right now so maybe I am a little tired. Maybe I should get some more tea.”

“Or maybe you should go ta sleep, but first tell me what happened.”

Blackberry starts to respond, but then his face crumples up again. “Oh, Papy, I’m so sorry!” Then he flings himself onto Twist’s ribcage, sobbing, and wraps his arms around him tightly.

Twist tenses momentarily, then forces himself to relax and bring his own arms around Blackberry. “‘s okay, bro. ‘s all gonna be okay.” Except that if those dreams happened the way Twist thinks they happened, then nothing is going to be okay. At least Blackberry isn’t running away from him <strike>in disgust</strike>. “Bro?”

“It’s not okay,” Blackberry whispers hoarsely, sending spikes of shame through Twist’s soul. “None of it was ever okay.”

Oh, fuck. After everything that’s happened, this is when Twist is going to shatter. How can he explain in a way that won’t make his brother hate him? “Look, bro, I know it’s bad. I know…” So many things he remembers dreaming about that Blackberry should never know about. So many things he could have said or done that could completely destroy every bit of respect his little brother ever had for him, every bit of faith he had that Twist could take care of them, that Twist was a big brother who was worth looking up to.

Blackberry shivers. “It was terrible.”

So many things that show that deep down, Twist is pathetic. Twist could never live up to the mantle of big brother. The best he could do was sell his strength and his cock for some shred of protection, both for different purposes but both doing things that would disgust Blackberry. Twist looks away, and forces out, “I’m sorry, bro,” through the tightness in his throat.

“It’s al – wait. _You’re_ sorry?” Blackberry asks incredulously.

“Yeah. ‘m sorry.” Not that sorry is ever going to fix shoving anything he had to do for Muffet in Blackberry’s face. He lets his arms drop lifelessly to the bed.

“You’re – why are _you_ sorry?” Did Blackberry think he wouldn’t be? Yeah, he tries to work around Blackberry’s disapproval of harmless things like his sex habits, but surely he realizes that it’s not the same. <strike>Yeah, because now they’re talking about Twist doing much more degrading things than a fun night sharing someone’s bed.</strike>

“Sorry ya had ta see that. Or hear that. Or… what’d I do, exactly? Never mind, ya don’ gotta tell me, ‘less ya wanna, but I get it if ya don’ wanna talk ta me or don’ want me talkin’ ‘bout it or don’ wanna be around me or –”

“Why would I be hugging you if I didn’t want to be around you?” Blackberry raises his skull to try to catch Twist’s eyelight, and Twist lets him because he’ll let Blackberry do anything for just the smallest chance of making this okay. At least he’s still here.

“Dunno. So, uh… yer not plannin’ ta run away screamin’?” Maybe he’ll at least give Twist a chance to explain. Not that there’s any explanation he’s willing to give that would actually help.

“No! Why would I do that?” Why? Because Twist spent his life underground doing everything that disgusts Blackberry, rightly or wrongly, and now he’s reminded him of all of it, and probably Blackberry’s time as a sweetpiece, too, so he’s managed to traumatize his little brother because he can’t keep his own shit locked inside his own fucking skull where it belongs.

“‘cause I… I dunno what I did. But I know what I was dreamin’ ‘bout, an’ I know how yer actin’, so I gotta think I did somethin’, an’ I never meant ta put ya through that.”

Blackberry whimpers. “Brother, are you worried about _me_?”

“Yeah, bro. I know yer tough, a lot tougher than some people think ya are, but ya shouldn’t hafta deal with that shit, and–”

“Well neither should you. Why should I get to hide from it when you’re the one who, who had to… Oh Papy, I can’t even say it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry if I made you think you had to hide this from me.” Huh? _Blackberry_ is sorry? About that? Why?

“Ain’t yer fault. You were just a kid.”

“Not that much of a kid, and I’m certainly not one now.”

“Yeah, but now, yer just… yer happy. An’ I’m happy, an’ everyone’s happy, an’ all this shit was ever gonna do was fuck everythin’ up like it’s doin’ now. Never shoulda seen the light ‘a day.” But Twist just had to jump into the LV treatment without finding out the consequences, and now everyone else has to pay for it right along with him.

“What, so it’s better for you to keep everything to yourself?”

“Better’n upsettin’ you like this? Yeah. Look, bro, you got yer secrets, and I got mine, and we were both doin’ just fine leavin’ ‘em alone ta rot before mine decided ta go shove ‘emselves in yer face, so I’m sorry. Wish I could fix it, but I dunno what ta do. I just… We still bros?”

“I’m still hugging you, aren’t I? And I’m still waiting for you to hug me back, or, oh stars, I didn’t even think! Do you not want me to hug you? Does it bother you? Oh, Papy, I’m so sorry. I always do this! You should have said something. Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. I don’t mean it’s your fault if I do something you don’t want me to do. We already talked about that, and it isn’t. I just mean… do you want a hug?” Blackberry starts to pull away.

“Yeah, bro. ‘Course I want a hug from you.” Twist wraps his arms around Blackberry to return the hug again, and Blackberry lowers his skull back onto Twist’s ribcage. “Wish ya didn’t hafta worry ‘bout that.”

“Well I wish I’d started worrying about what you want sooner. It could have saved us from this whole mess.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Look, I been worried ‘bout this fer awhile. Ya know, worried I wasn’t gonna act right around you when I was dreamin’.”

“Is that what you were trying to tell me? Yesterday and the night before?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Papy,” Blackberry sighs. “Why would you think I wouldn’t want to take care of you just because of that?”

“Dunno, bro. Guess it was silly.”

“It’s not silly. It’s concerning. I wish you didn’t think you had to hide things from me.”

“I don’ think I gotta hide things from ya.”

Blackberry lifts his skull again to raise a browbone. “Really?”

“Okay, not most things, at least. Look, maybe neither ‘a us are all that good at talkin’.”

“Well maybe we need to get better at it.”

“Maybe yer right.” Blackberry lays his skull back on Twist’s ribcage, and Twist wraps his arms around him more tightly. “Hey, bro?”

“Yes?”

“Ya really aren’t upset?”

“I’m very upset, but not at you.”

“But it’s kinda my fault.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yeah, it kinda,” Twist yawns, “kinda is.”

“I disagree. Strongly. Now, I think you’re getting tired, and you didn’t get anything remotely resembling a good night’s sleep last night, so maybe we should put this discussion on hold while you take a nap.”

Twist yawns again. “Maybe. Sure yer not upset?”

“Not with you. And you insist that you’re not mad at me?”

“Course not.” Twist yawns yet again, fighting to stay awake as his sockets get heavier.

“Then we can discuss it more after you’ve had some actual sleep.” It probably is for the best, but can he really risk last night happening again? Once was bad enough.

“Maybe you should leave, ‘least til I wake up again.”

“No.”

“C’mon, bro. Dunno what I’ll do, an’ I don’ wanna make it worse.”

“I’ve already seen what you might do,” Twist winces, “and I’m not leaving.”

“What if I wanna be left alone?”

“Do you?” No.

“Yeah. Think I could use some time ta myself.”

“Then why did your bones just start rattling?” Did they? Fuck. Got to get these reactions under control.

“Look, bro, can ya blame me fer not wantin’ ta risk actin’ like that in front of you?”

“No, but can you blame me for not wanting to leave you alone in this condition? I promise I can handle it. It’s _not_ going to be worse than last night.”

“Don’ really like what that says ‘bout last night.”

“It was terrible. _But_ we got through it, and we can talk about it more when you’re more awake.” Says the skeleton who is now living off of caffeine, but that’s a whole other argument that Twist doesn’t have the strength to get into.

“Okay, little bro.” The idea of sleeping in front of Blackberry is still terrifying, but the more they talk about sleep, the less Twist can resist it. His brother is a comforting warmth against ribs that aren’t even burning right now, and his joints tingle pleasantly as the magic in them continues to recover from the suppressant. Nothing is actually okay, but Blackberry doesn’t hate him so maybe it can be okay eventually.


	21. Chapter 21

Blackberry lets himself relax against his brother’s ribs for the few minutes it takes Twist to fall asleep. It would be so easy to stay here, to just let himself enjoy resting peacefully with his brother, to give himself a break from all the terrible things that keep happening, but he can’t.

What if he falls asleep? What if something goes wrong and he doesn’t notice until it’s too late? What if Twist has another nightmare? _What if Twist has another nightmare and wakes up to find someone on top of him?_

That last thought has him scrambling off the bed, as much as he can scramble without waking Twist. Oh _stars_, how he wants to go back to when a thought like that would never even cross his mind. Back when Twist was invulnerable so Blackberry never had to worry about hurting him. Except Twist was never actually invulnerable, because of course he wasn’t. Blackberry knows that, of course he knows that, but his big brother has always been so strong and good and tough and happy and…

But of course that doesn’t mean anything. Or, no, it’s not that it doesn’t mean _anything_. Twist is all of those things, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be hurt, and Blackberry _knows_ that! Doesn’t he hate it when people think they can walk all over Twist’s feelings just because Twist will shrug it off with a smile and act like everything is fine? But he did it himself! And Twist thought it was his own fault!

What if Blackberry hadn’t already realized that he’d made a terrible mistake? What if he was still trying to convince himself that he was right? Would he have let Twist take the blame? Has he done that before? Has he been contributing to his brother’s frankly terrifying lack of self-worth this whole time? What kind of terrible excuse for a brother is he? No wonder Twist doesn’t trust him.

Twist whimpers, and Blackberry flinches. He’s not going to do any good against nightmares in this state. What’s he going to do, project a bunch of guilt into whatever horrible thing Twist is dreaming about? Very helpful.

Enough self-pity. That’s all this is. It’s not helpful and it’s not wanted. Twist needs to know he’s safe, and loved, and that everything will be alright – the exact opposite of whatever he’s dreaming about, and the exact opposite of all this worry.

Twist snarls, and digs his claws into the bed. That's different than the other dreams, but it’s nothing he can’t handle if he can just get his own racing thoughts under control. Look at the positives. Blackberry is good at that. Maybe sometimes he does it a little too much and ends up ignoring things that really shouldn’t be ignored, but they already talked about that and they can talk more later. That’s right, they will, and they can deal with all these problems that have apparently been going on forever. How could he not have – nope. Self-pity. No time for that. Twist’s claws have made it into the mattress and there’s a hint of magic in the cracks in his broken socket, so it’s very important that everything will be fine and they’ll get it all worked out because they love each other and they're safe on the surface and everything will be fine.

Yes, everything will be fine because they love each other and they will _make_ it be fine. Now, fix that nightmare. With a little focus, a now-familiar wave of /LOVE/COMFORT/HOPE/SAFETY/ flows from his soul, and Twist relaxes. There, no trouble at all.

Carefully inspecting Twist for any damage, he smiles to see his brother no worse for wear. Except for the fingers buried nearly to the metacarpals in the mattress. How did he even do that? Better remember not to get too confident about Twist being too weak to hurt anyone. Bones are tougher than mattresses, but not that much tougher.

Gently pulling Twist’s phalanges out of the mattress, he notes the other rips and tears that definitely weren’t there a week ago. Looks like Twist is going to need a new mattress when this is all over, along with new bedding. Picking off a few loose threads that got tangled in the joints, he lays Twist’s hands at his sides and settles into his chair with a new cup of tea.

An hour later, his sockets are getting heavy when he’s startled awake by a gasp. Not again! Setting aside his teacup, which fortunately was empty because it’s been laying upside down in his lap for who knows how long, he starts projecting LOVE/COMFORT/HOPE/SAFETY before his conscious mind even processes what’s happening. In return, a wave of **/pAiN/BurNINg/MELtiNg/_PAiN_/** hits him like a tsunami.

The world whites out for a moment. When awareness returns, Blackberry finds himself curled in a ball, half in the chair and half on the bed, skull pressed against Twist’s burning ribs. Oh _no!_

It’s not a nightmare. It’s one of those awful node things. Apparently, projections don’t help. Or if they do, it doesn’t matter, because there’s no way to project anything happy while feeling like that. Oh, poor Twist. That must be how his soul feels, and it’s just awful!

Well don’t just lie around whining about it! Wet towels help, and he’ll need some water when it ends. The last thing Twist needs is his little brother whining about feeling what Twist has been feeling for days. Trembling only slightly, Blackberry pushes himself up and gets his feet on the floor.

Twist looks miserable, sockets open but dark, breath a whimpering rasp forcing its way through clenched teeth. He doesn’t seem likely to hear it, but just in case, Blackberry reassures, “I’m just going to get some more water for the towels. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.” Then he rushes downstairs with the water pitcher. He refills it with ice water, then runs back upstairs.

Twist’s jaw has dropped open, and he’s panting. He’s also covered in fresh spent magic, which is steaming off of his ribs. Blackberry is tempted to dump the whole pitcher on him, he looks so hot and miserable, but this is going to pass and then Twist won’t want to sleep in a wet bed. Instead, he picks the towels up off the floor and gets to work wiping down Twist’s bones.

Twist’s breathing gets a little easier as his ribs stop steaming. His soul still radiates unbearable heat, but it probably wouldn’t take well to being covered in ice water. Or maybe it would. It’s not like Blackberry has really looked into what can and can’t be done with souls. He wouldn’t have thought it was a good idea to regularly jab one with needles, either, but that and the alarm are currently the things keeping his brother alive. Maybe at some point he can get the nerve to ask Iggy.

Before he can decide, Twist starts to relax. Blackberry has the water bottle ready before the coughing even starts. He gently sets the tip between Twist’s teeth, and holds it there as Twist weakly raises one hand to support it. Maybe Blackberry isn't doing such a bad job of taking care of him. Maybe they’ll make it through this. Of course, he’s not the one who’s soul is on fire. He shudders at the memory of that feeling, but forces himself to still because Twist isn’t quite steady enough to hold the water bottle on his own yet.

He must have let something through, because Twist stops drinking long enough to mumble, “Y’okay, bro?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” At Twist's raised brow bone, he sheepishly continues, “oh, right, talking. We agreed to talk to each other. Alright, I’m a bit upset, mainly because I’m worried about you, which is _not your fault._ But I’m mostly fine. How are you doing?”

“‘bout as well as y’d expect,” Twist mumbles, before finishing his water. As Blackberry sets the empty bottle aside, Twist continues. “Hey, uh, earlier, did I…”

“You started to have a nightmare about an hour ago, but I really did catch that one early enough to stop it and you went right back to sleep.”

“Thanks, but tha’s not it. I mean… dunno. Don’ think ’m really awake yet.”

“That’s alright. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

“m‘kay. Wait, no, why’re you still awake?”

“I’m just keeping an eye on you, like I said I would.”

“An’ I said ta go ta sleep.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m not even tired. I'll just keep making sure nothing goes wrong. How could I sleep after all that, anyway?”

“Guess it’d be tough. I didn’t wake ya up, did I?”

“No, not at all! I admit I might have been drifting a little bit, but now I’m wide awake.”

“See, toldja ya’d wake up if anythin’ happened.”

“I suppose. But I was completely useless when I first woke up. I didn’t even know what was going on at first. I thought it was a nightmare, so I tried to treat it like a nightmare, which did no good whatsoever.”

“_That’s_ what I’m remembrin’! Thought ya’d maybe done that projection dream-cure thing, but I wasn’t sure ‘cause nothin’ feels right when one ‘a those nodes is dissolvin’. Hey, uh, did anythin’ weird happen?”

“Like what?” Oh, no, Twist is going to feel terrible if he finds out, but Blackberry can’t just lie to him after everything they talked about earlier.

“Like, uh, I kinda remember, when I felt those projections, maybe sendin’ somethin’ back? Did I do that?”

Blackberry sighs. “Yes. But don’t worry about it.”

Twist’s sockets narrow. “What’d I send? And don’ tell me ‘nothin’.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you ‘nothing’. You just sent some of what you were feeling. Just for a moment.”

Twist winces. “Shit. Sorry, bro. Wouldn’t want ya ta feel like that in a million years.”

“Well I’d rather _you_ didn’t feel like that, either, but apparently you do every day.”

“Not all the time. Jus' when those damn nodes dissolve.”

“Which happens every day, often multiple times, for much longer than I felt it.”

“Yeah. This cure sucks.”

“It does.”

“But hey, lookit us, talkin’ ‘bout our feelings.”

Huh. They actually are. Kind of. But they're doing it! “And only brief moments of pretending nothing is wrong! We’re doing wonderfully.”

“Yep, great communicators, the two of us.”

“I mean, technically we’ve only talked about physical feelings, although even that is significant progress.”

“Hey, guilt 'n worry are feelings, and we talked about those too!”

“We did! Although I’d really call that more of an acknowledgement than a discussion, and an indirect acknowledgement, at that.”

“Still let each other know they existed, an’ now we’re makin’ fun of ourselves ‘stead of beatin’ ourselves up about it. I say we call this one a victory.”

“A victory it is!” They both crack a grin. Then Blackberry starts giggling. And keeps giggling. Then he can’t stop giggling until he’s gasping for air. By the time he steadies himself against the bed, Twist looks concerned.

“Bro? Sure yer doin’ okay?”

“I’m fine, just–” another wave of giggles washes over him. “Just…”

“Did I miss part ‘a the joke? Don’ think anythin’ was _that_ funny.”

“No, just–” Twist isn’t laughing at all anymore, but Blackberry can’t stop.

“Bro, c’mere.”

“I’m fine, just–” He can’t stop giggling. Why can’t he stop?

“Yer not fine. I can’t sit up an' everythin’s blurry so just c’mere.” Twist really looks worried, so Blackberry climbs into bed next to him, still giggling.

“I’m really perfectly fine. It’s just a little funny. That’s all.”

“A little funny, huh?”

“Right! It’s just so… um…”

“D’ya even remember what yer laughin’ ‘bout?”

“Of course! It’s… um…” He breaks out giggling again, barely avoiding falling on Twist, collapsing beside him instead.

“Ya don’t, do ya?” Twist sounds very worried, which is silly because there’s no reason at all to be worried. None whatsoever.

“What are you so worried about? It’s funny.”

“When was the last time ya slept?”

That makes the giggling worse. “You know, I have no idea?” Which really is just the funniest thing.

“Right. Hey, why don'tcha pull that blanket up? I’m gettin’ cold.”

“Ok!” Anything to be helpful. Twist needs so much help right now, but Blackberry can do it. Blackberry will always help his brother. He pulls up the blanket and tucks it in around Twist. “There, how’s that?”

“Great, bro, thanks. But I’m still pretty cold, an’ I still don’ feel too great, so why don’tcha climb under here too and we c’n talk fer awhile?”

“I’m not sure I should.” It does sound nice, but wasn’t there a reason he was avoiding doing that? Oh, right, sleeping! There’s no time to fall asleep, not when Twist might need something.

“C’mon, bro. I jus’ wanna talk fer awhile. Can’t even see ya all that well if ya go back ta that chair.” But what if he falls asleep? What if Twist needs him and he doesn’t even know it?

“Maybe I should have some more tea first.” But he’s out of tea, and getting more would mean leaving Twist alone. Twist seems to be doing okay, so maybe it would be alright to leave him alone for a few minutes?

“Don’ go. Please, bro? Please just come lay down fer a minute?” Well how can he go downstairs when Twist is asking him to stay here? He’s always telling Blackberry that it’s okay to leave him alone. He must be feeling really terrible.

“Alright, brother, don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone. I’ll stay right here.”

“Right next ta me, right? So I c’n see ya.”

“Right next to you.” Blackberry can manage it. He’s not that tired. He can stay awake and keep his brother company. He rests his skull on the pillow next to Twist, and when Twist lifts a corner of the blanket, he crawls underneath it. Wouldn’t want Twist to wear himself out holding a blanket up in the air.

“Thanks, bro.” Twist does look more relaxed.

“Do you still want to talk?”

“Sure.”

“About what?”

“Dunno. Anythin’ in’erestin’ happen while I was gone?”

“Not much. I did some baking and worked on school work. Blue and Papyrus invited me over several times.”

“Sounds fun.”

“I suppose. It would have been more fun if I hadn’t been so worried about you.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s okay.” Blackberry yawns. He really should get up soon.

“Didn’t mean ta worry ya.”

“I know. And I know,” another yawn interrupts him, “sorry. I know the LV cure is important.” Another yawn. “I just wish you would have told me.”

“I know. Sorry ta make ya worry.” As he speaks, Twist’s hand makes its way to the top of Blackberry’s skull to scratch at his coronal suture.

“Mmm. Well,” Blackberry yawns again, “we’re working on better communication.” That feels so good. Oh, dear, it’s so warm and comfortable here, and Twist keeps scratching his skull. He really should get up and get some tea. In a minute.

“Yeah, we’re workin’ on it. Gonna get it all worked out an’ then everythin’ll be just fine.” That’s right, everything will be fine. Just… fine…

Then Blackberry sleeps.

***

Twist smiles as Blackberry’s sockets close. He may not be up to doing much, but he can still get his little brother to sleep. Hopefully he’ll stay that way for a while.

Twist is still pretty tired, himself, so joining Blackberry in his nap seems like a good idea. Waking them both up with nightmares is a concern, but realistically, there’s no way he’s going to be able to stay awake that long, at least not without something to do. Maybe Blackberry can bring him something to work on when they both wake up. There has to be something he can do in bed with his vision going in and out of focus. Okay, other than one obvious bed-based activity that wouldn’t be an option right now even if Blackberry would leave him alone with someone who might want to participate. Even sticking with G-rated activities, there’s nothing to do, and he’s tired.

He’s nearly asleep when a buzzing sound comes from the dresser. “Shit! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” he whispers harshly. The buzzing, which is clearly coming from Blackberry’s phone, doesn’t listen, and continues vibrating through several more rings, before whoever it is finally hangs up. Twist looks at Blackberry in dread, fully expecting to find blue eyelights glaring at him for interrupting his plan of staying awake for the rest of his life. For once, the stars must be smiling on them, because Blackberry’s sockets remain firmly shut.

Too bad the phone is so far away. Forget privacy. At this point, Twist would call for help in a second if he could. Blackberry is doing his best, but he can’t keep going like this. A nap is just a temporary solution to the problem. They both need some help, and the only way to get it is through that out-of-reach phone.

It’s not that Blackberry can’t take care of him. He’s doing better than Twist would have thought any one monster could. He’s just not going to be able to keep it up much longer. Twist is a mess, and he’s not going to stop being a mess any time soon. Iggy could handle it because all she cared about was keeping Twist alive, but there’s no way Blackberry is going to agree to make anything easier on himself if it has the slightest chance of hurting Twist. It’s nice to be taken care of, but it’s not worth it if Blackberry has to drive himself to the point of collapse to do it. Problem is, there’s no way to convince Blackberry of that.

The obvious solution is to get some help, but Cash left and no one else even knows what’s going on. Why did Cash leave, again? It's hard to keep track. <strike>Was it because Twist killed him?</strike> No. What the fuck? That was obviously a dream. Oh, right, because Blackberry told him to leave. Those two never can get along. Twist should have insisted on him staying, but he just doesn’t have the energy to get Cash to do something he doesn’t want to do. Besides, he’d kind of thought that Cash might decide to come back.

It kind of seemed like he wanted to stay, for a while, which was a nice surprise. Obviously there’s more to Cash than what he lets anyone see, but normally it takes a lot more work to get to see it. It was really nice to have him so open and helpful. It was probably too much to hope for that it would last once Blackberry got here, though. Still, it would be nice if he came back, <strike>which would be easier if Twist hadn't killed him</strike>. What the fuck. Stop that. He's too awake for this bullshit.

In a more practical sense, it would be nice if anyone at all would come help. They can’t keep going like this. Brotherly bonding time is great and all, but someone in this house needs to be in full possession of their faculties, and it’s not going to be Twist. His soul hurts and his skull is full of fog and it’s much too hot underneath this blanket.

It’s hot. It’s hot, and his soul hurts, and it’s much too hot. It hurts. His soul hurts.

“Shit. No. Fuck.” He grits his teeth. His soul is molten steel inside his ribcage, concentrated around a little point of agony where acid is eating away at it. Fuck, no, not acid, its medicine, just medicine, and it’s not eating his soul, just the LV. He hates the LV and he wants it to be eaten, so just let it happen and relax and _don’t fucking scream!_

It _hurts_ but it doesn’t matter because it’s just doing what it’s supposed to and everything will be fine so don’t scream because if he screams then Blackberry will wake up and Blackberry needs to sleep. Just be quiet! A strangled sound escapes him so he bites down on the blanket that Blackberry so carefully tucked beneath his jaw. Blackberry is working so hard to take care of him and now he’s sleeping so the least Twist can do is let him sleep and stop being such a fucking burden to everyone. Oh fuck it hurts. His breathing turns to sobbing and it’s too loud! Have to be quiet, don’t make noise, don’t wake her up or she’ll start again, no, _fuck_, that’s not what’s happening, it’s just Blackberry. Blackberry is sleeping and he needs to sleep so Twist can just shut up about how much it hurts because it doesn’t matter so don’t fucking scream.

Some kind of awful sound is still making its way through his jaws. He can’t really hear it because nothing is real except the pain but it’s too loud so he needs to shut up. His arm flails as he tries to lift it towards his jawbone, knocking against scorching ribs and the side of his skull before making its way to the blanket between his teeth. It doesn’t matter. Just don’t wake Blackberry. Another flare of agony makes him shriek. It’s too loud, much too loud, so he gets ahold of the blanket and shoves it far enough into his jaw that he can’t scream anymore.

Now he’s quiet. The blanket makes him gag and his body convulses as it fights for air, but no amount of pain can make him make any noise so Blackberry won’t wake up. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Blackberry needs to sleep, even though Twist can’t quite remember why. He’s quiet now so Blackberry can sleep so it doesn’t matter that it hurts and he can’t breathe and it hurts.

Then he can breathe and he screams. No no no shut _up_! Blackberry needs sleep. Shut up!

“-I’m sorry, Papy, I’m so sorry I fell asleep! I’m so sorry. You’re okay now. You’re okay, well you’re not okay but the blanket is gone so you can breathe so you’ll be okay. I don’t understand how it got in your mouth but it’s gone now and I’ve got you.”

No, no, why is he talking? He’s supposed to be asleep! “Sleep…”

“I know," Blackberry answers in a tremulous voice. "I fell asleep and I’m so sorry and it won’t happen again.” Why's he...? Can’t think. It hurts. Can’t think. Sans is crying.

“Don’ cry. Sleep.”

“You… oh, brother, are you worried about me? Please don’t worry about me. You’re the one who's hurt.” Hurts, it hurts, it burns, and Sans is awake and he failed and it hurts. “Your ribs are so hot. I’m going to cool you off now.” Then icy bliss runs along his ribs and it hurts slightly less but he still failed.

“Bro…” he forces out, but it’s all he can manage.

“Shh. Everything will be alright. I’m sorry I made you wait so long. Is this helping?” Twist can only whimper in reply. It hurts and he failed and Blackberry is awake.

Blackberry keeps cooling his ribs and apologizing as the medicine works its way through the node. Then he has the water bottle ready as the pain fades, as he always does. Then he takes away the blanket that Twist shoved down his throat and replaces it with another one, and wipes the spent magic from where it built up around his broken socket.

“There, that’s better. All fresh and clean, or at least as clean as you’re going to get without a bath. That blanket was getting too dirty anyway, although I don’t understand how it got in your mouth.”

“Tryna shut up.” Does that make sense? Maybe. Twist is really tired. His head hurts.

“You were what?” Is Blackberry upset? He sounds upset. Why is he upset?

“Tryna shut up?” Is that the wrong answer? Fuck, what does she want? No, stupid, this is Blackberry. What does he want?

“Are you telling me that you put that blanket in your mouth on purpose?”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t shut up.”

“So you shoved a blanket down your throat?” Is he not making sense? It seems like maybe he’s not making sense.

“Had ta shut up. You were sleepin’.”

“You almost suffocated on a blanket because I was sleeping?!” Yeah? Maybe? Did he really almost suffocate?

“I was bein’ too loud. Was gonna wake you up.”

“So you decided it was more important for me to stay asleep than for you to breathe?”

“Yeah? No, that’s not… didn’t notice. Just… I was bein’ too loud, an’ you jus got ta sleep so I didn't wanna-”

“And I shouldn’t have! Stars, Papy, how could you think I would want to sleep through that? Even if you didn’t realize you were suffocating, I should have been helping you. Anything could have happened.” Worried. Blackberry is worried, and Twist doesn’t know why. But Twist is worried too, and that worry is pulling him closer to full awareness.

“Ya gotta sleep. Ya can’t just keep… ya can’t… gotta sleep.”

“Are we really going to do this again? Now? I told you, I’ll sleep when there’s a good time to do it.”

“Never a good time. Ya just keep… so I gotta… ya gotta sleep. Please, bro.”

“Okay, Papy, okay. There’s no need to get all worked up. I promise I’ll sleep soon.” That’s a lie.

“We were gonna stop lyin’.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Not gonna sleep. Think ya gotta… watch me every second, an’ I gotcha ta sleep one time an’ I fucked it up so yer not gonna do it again.”

“Obviously I do need to watch you every second. You had a blanket down your throat. You could have died.”

“Then don’ lemme have a blanket. Take everythin’ away, tie me up, I don’ give a fuck. Just go ta sleep.”

“Your making this into a much bigger deal than it actually is. A few days without sleep aren’t going to kill me, and I’ve even had naps. This isn't the time for this argument anyway. _You_ need to rest, not me.”

“’s not… somethin’ ain’t right. Yer not… what were ya laughin’ 'bout?”

“What?”

“‘fore ya fell asleep. What were ya laughin’ bout?”

“We were being silly! It was funny! You laughed too.”

“Yeah, but ya fell over. Ya don’t… yer not… yer not takin’ care ‘a yerself.”

“Says the monster who shoved a blanket down his throat to stop himself from screaming.”

“Yeah, but… I didn’t mean ta do that. Ya keep… not sleepin’, an’ not eatin’, and all ya drink is tea an’ I know it ain’t the relaxin’ kind, an’ ya can’t keep doin’ this.”

“Look, now is not the time for this conversation. You are extremely unwell. We should be worrying about you, not me. I’m surprised you even remember any of the things you’re bringing up, but you’re certainly in no shape to be discussing them.”

“But we gotta. Ya can’t keep doin’ this.”

“I’ll do what I need to do to keep you safe.”

“I ain’t sayin’ ta abandon me! Obviously I need help, ‘cause I’m fucked up beyond belief, but why’d ya gotta be the only one dealin’ with it?”

“Because _I_ realize that some things should be kept private and not given away to every random stranger who looks mildly interested. Not that you would understand that,” Blackberry snaps, before gasping and covering his mouth.

“Bro?”

“Oh stars, Papy, no, I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t mean that at all.”

“Then why’dja say it?” Not that it isn’t obvious what Blackberry thinks of him, but he doesn’t usually say it, and it seemed like they were maybe getting a little better. But maybe it was stupid to hope that just because he doesn’t blame him for a nightmare it means he isn’t disgusted by everything else Twist does.

“I don’t know! I was just irritated, and you keep badgering me about the sleep thing, and it just popped out of my mouth. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“So it just came outta nowhere, huh?”

“Yes!”

“Uh huh. I know wha'cha think of me.” Why does he even try? It doesn’t really matter what he does to be a good big brother. Blackberry thinks he’s a slut who couldn’t make a good decision to save his life, and Twist knows he’s a failure.

“Papy, stop! I don’t know why I said that, but it’s not what I think and it doesn’t mean anything about you. Maybe this is another of those things we need to talk about, but we’re not doing it right now. You’re exhausted and hurting, and I don’t know why I said something so awful but I don’t think it means I’m in a good frame of mind for talking either.”

“‘kay.” Twist isn’t the only one who is exhausted. Is he supposed to believe that a well-rested, healthy Blackberry would say that? Think it, yes, but he wouldn’t say it. Twist isn’t wrong about Blackberry desperately needing sleep. Whatever else it may or may not mean, it proves that.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I fell asleep, even if you think I should have slept more, and I’m so sorry I said that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Tired.”

“I’m not tired! I’m fine! I’ll just go make some more tea and I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“So ya meant it?”

“No! I don’t know why I said that.”

“Cause yer tired.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yer tired or ya meant it, unless ya got a better explanation.”

“I’m not tired, and I didn’t mean it, and even if I was tired that still wouldn’t have justified saying it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Wha’s wrong is that yer tired. An’ maybe we’re both more fucked up than ya realize, but yer tired.”

“I’m not… never mind. We can talk about it later.” A lot of good that does. “Now, it’s been awhile since the last time you ate. Do you feel well enough for a smoothie?”

Not really. “I guess.”

“Great! I’ll go make you one.”

“Maybe we could sleep first?”

“You sleep, I’ll make the smoothie.”

“No, but…”

“I’m not sleeping. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then he walks out of the room before Twist can argue.

Twist is actually exhausted, and as soon as there’s no one to talk to his sockets drift shut. He doesn’t actually sleep, but drifts through half conscious dreams of spiders and lizards and brothers and helplessness.

***

Balancing a smoothie, a freshly made pot of tea, and a teacup on his new favorite serving tray, Blackberry makes his way back to Twist’s room. He almost loses it all at the top of the stairs, not realizing he’s reached the last step, but nothing spills so everything is fine. He’s not usually so clumsy but everything is fine. He’s fine.

Twist’s sockets are closed when he enters the room, but the good one slits open when he sets his tray on the nightstand. Maybe he should let Twist sleep. He looks like he needs it. On the other hand, it would be terrible to let his HP drop, just terrible. Alright, breakfast it is.

“Breakfast is ready!” he exclaims enthusiastically. Maybe he can improve Twist’s mood by improving his own. They both need it after the most recent disaster. <strike>And why did he say that? What’s wrong with him?</strike>

“m‘kay.” Maybe not the most enthusiastic response, but he’s awake. At least awake enough to drink, right?

“Brother, are you awake?”

“Yeah.” He doesn't really sound awake.

“I have breakfast for you. Can you drink it on your own, or do you need some help?”

“I c’n do it!” Oh goodness, that got a response. Not exactly a positive one, though.

“Papy? Are you alright?”

“Fine. ‘m fine. I c’n eat.”

“Alright. Just let me know if you need help.” He probably at least needs help sitting up. He’s not in a good position for drinking, but he’s being strangely insistent that he doesn’t need help. “Just let me help you sit up.”

“I c’n… okay.” Why is that upsetting? He’s been helping Twist for days now <strike>and doing a terrible job of it, and then what he _said_.</strike>

“Here, let me just…” Supporting Twist's skull and scapulae, he sets two more pillows behind Twist before leaning him back to rest against them. “There, is that better?”

Twist doesn’t answer. “Brother? Are you okay?” Twist still doesn’t answer. What’s wrong? “Do you not want breakfast?”

“’kay.” Does that mean he does or doesn’t want breakfast? Why is he acting like this all of the sudden? Is he mad at Blackberry? He would be justified if he was, but he doesn’t seem mad.

“I’m not sure what you mean. Do you want breakfast?”

“‘kay.” Maybe he’s not feeling well because he’s hungry. That happened on the first morning after he came home, too.

“Okay, I’m going to give you your breakfast now. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.” Twist’s brow bones furrow. “Is something wrong?”

“No apple.” What.

“Did you just…?”

Twist cringes back into the pillow, but repeats, “please no apple?” What.

“What?”

“No apple? Please? I… sorry. Shouldn’t complain, just… please?” What. The.

“No, brother. I will not put apples in your food. Not ever. Why would you ever think I would?”

“Dunno. Just… no apples? Please?”

“Why do you think you need to tell me not to feed you apples?”

“Dunno? Maybe… ‘s kinda foggy. My skull, I mean? I think… ‘s okay. Jus’… no apples?”

“Did someone make you eat apples?” Who the hell would…?

“Yeah, jus’… she’s busy.” She’s busy. It was Iggy. Of course it was Iggy. Of course. Of course she made him eat apples. It was probably convenient, and it's not like he's allergic to them so what does it matter that even the smell makes him sick? And Twist probably wouldn’t have said anything about it except that he’s so exhausted and confused and hurt that he thinks Blackberry might feed him apples. Or it’s because of what Blackberry said. <strike>Or maybe he knows what Blackberry did last night</strike><strike>. Mustn't forget pretending to be her. What’s an apple compared to that?</strike>

“I will never feed you apples. No one else is going to feed you apples again, either.” Not after he decides what to feed Iggy, anyway.

“No apples?”

“No apples.”

“Thanks, bro. Yer the best.” He’s the best for not making his brother eat apples. He’s the best for not acting like Muffet, unlike _some_ people, <strike>unlike last night</strike><strike>, unlike a few minutes ago</strike>. He’s the best.

“Just eat your breakfast. There are no apples in it.” Twist happily opens his mouth for the straw.

***

Twist is much more coherent after finishing his smoothie. He might not have actually even been awake at the beginning of breakfast. It’s really hard to tell sometimes. Blackberry is both afraid and slightly hopeful that he’s going to bring up their earlier conversations, and then both relieved and worried when he doesn’t. Instead, Twist gently scolds Blackberry for forgetting his own breakfast.

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout makin’ sure yer eatin’ and drinkin’ enough?” Blackberry actually has no idea what Twist told him, after everything that has happened, but he assumes it was something along the lines of ‘remember to eat and drink enough’. At least he’s drinking plenty of tea.

“I’m fine. I’ll eat pretty soon. I’m just not hungry right now.” Actually, the thought of food is nauseating, and reminds him of why he threw up last night.

“Probly all that tea ya been drinkin’. How many cups have ya had so far?” Or maybe he does plan to bring up that particular conversation. At least the sleep one is more annoying than horrifying.

“I’m not quite sure. Not too many.”

“If yer not sure, it probly is too many. Have ya at least tried a few cups that weren’t full ‘a caffeine?”

“I haven’t had too much caffeine. I think you need something to do other than worry about what I’m drinking. Would you like me to read to you?”

“I’d like ya ta get yerself some breakfast. And some water. Or somethin’ else without caffeine. Then I’d like ya ta take a nap.” Yes, definitely the sleep thing again. He just won’t let it go. At least there are no nightmares involved.

“I’m not even tired.” Well, maybe a little, but he also feels like cleaning the whole house and maybe doing a few jumping jacks, <strike>and also crying, and laughing until he can't breathe,</strike> so staying awake with Twist seems like a reasonable compromise. “Now, would you like another nap, or would you like me to read to you? Or do you have another idea for a way to pass the time?"

“I’d like ya to get breakfast. That has nothin’ ta do with bein' tired. When was the last time ya ate anythin’?”

“Sometime yesterday.” Although what time yesterday is a good question, as is what he actually ate. Maybe Twist has a point on that one.

“Well there ya go, now ya gotta eat taday too. Eatin’s an everyday thing, ya know.”

“I know, I know. Why are you so worried about me eating? I’m hardly in danger of starving to death.”

“Why are you so against eatin’? Don’ seem like you at all.”

“I’m not against eating. I just don’t think I should leave you alone to make myself breakfast.” He’s never leaving Twist alone again. And what if he thinks about last night again? Nausea rises just thinking about it. Or thinks about waking up to find Twist with that blanket. That one is pretty horrifying too. He's staying right here.

“Then get somethin’ that’s easy ta make. Can’t tell me ya haven’t been baking since I’ve been gone.”

“Well of course I have, but I gave most of that away and took the rest to Blue’s for our movie night.”

“Maybe it’s time ta make some more, then.”

Blackberry rolls his eyelights. “How could I possibly do that? We’ve already been over how I don’t want to leave you alone, and now you think I’m going to go bake something?”

“Probly be good fer ya. Help ya relax.”

“I don’t need to relax.”

“Yer hands are shakin’.”

“No they aren’t.” He lays his hands in his lap. Maybe it’s time for more tea. He gulps the rest of his current cup, then pours himself another.

“Wish ya’d stop doin’ that.”

“It’s just tea. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it.”

“It ain’t just the tea. Yer ‘bout ta fall over an’ ya ain’t actin’ right, an’ I’m worried about ya. Not a thing I c'n do ta help, either.”

“I’m acting just fine.” Twist raises a brow bone. “Except for that. I don’t know why I said that and I’m very sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Ya sure? Hard ta stop yerself from doin’ somethin’ again when ya dunno why ya did it in the first place.”

“It was a terrible thing to say and I won’t say it again. I was feeling irritable and you won’t stop bothering me about the sleep thing, which you know I can’t do because I can’t leave you alone.”

“Then why can’t anyone else come help? Without callin’ me a slut this time, if ya don’t mind.”

“I didn’t call you a slut!”

“Close enough.”

“Well I didn’t mean to.”

“Sure. Now about bringin’ in someone else ta help; why’s it such a problem fer ya? Cash did jus’ fine with all the shit I did when he was here, an’ some of the others could probly handle it too.”

“It’s not about whether they could handle it.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“I don’t… look. It’s one thing when you’re acting like you are right this second. I’m sure plenty of our friends could do perfectly fine when you know where you are and feel well enough to interact. But that can change in an instant. One minute we’re having a normal conversation, then I step out of the room and I’m not sure you even know who I am when I come back in. Or I stop paying attention for an instant and you’re hurt. Or you have a nightmare, and do you really want to do that in front of someone else?”

“Didn’t wanna do it in front ‘a you, either. Or Cash, but both ‘a ya’ve seen it now, and neither of ya hate me, far’s I can tell.”

“It was never a question of hating you. It’s a question of how much she hurt you, and the _ways_ she hurt you, and forgive me if I don’t think that’s anyone else’s business.”

“Considerin’ we’re talkin’ ‘bout me, I think it’s mainly my business. Seems like I should be the one ta get the final say ‘bout who knows what about it.”

“Well of course you should be, but you don’t really have much control over that right now.”

“So ya think I should have less control than I already do?”

“I think we should limit who’s around you when you don’t have any control.”

“I agree. What, ya think I’m planning ta set myself up as a sideshow attraction?”

“You don’t seem opposed to it.”

“Watch it. Yer gettin’ kinda close ta ‘slut’ territory again.” He never said slut! But Twist maybe has a point about the implications. Why can't he just keep his mouth shut today?

“I just mean that it makes sense to limit who can be around you when you’re so vulnerable. Surely you don’t want to be so vulnerable in front of everyone? Who knows what they’ll do?”

“Ya really think they’d do somethin’?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’d like to think they wouldn’t, but how well do we really know any of them?”

“I’d say we know ‘em better’n that. Really, bro, yer really worried they might do somethin'?”

“You’re not?”

“Not really. More concerned about what kind of pitiful fool I’d make 'a myself.”

“Well, there. You don’t have to agree with my concerns. We can go with your concerns instead, even though you aren’t one bit pitiful or a fool.”

“Whoever’s concerns they are, I’d say Cash, at least, showed he could handle it.”

“He did do remarkably well. I’m very surprised at him.”

“Well there’s our answer, then. Call Cash. Or gimme my phone an’ I’ll call Cash.”

“I have no idea where your phone is.”

“Ya don’t? Huh. Shit, I bet it’s still in the lab. Whatever, I’ll deal with it later. You call 'im, or gimme yer phone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? He already showed he c’n take care of me just fine without bein' a dick about it.”

“For one day. Less than that, actually.”

“Pretty tough day.”

“Still. I’m not convinced he would handle it well.”

“Did when he found me.”

“I know, but… what if something happens like last night?”

“I think he could handle last night.”

“Well I don’t. Papy, you thought I was Muffet.”

“Did that ta him too. Freaked 'im out and confused 'im, but he handled it.”

“You... you tried to, you thought I wanted to…”

“Did that ta him, too. Fuckin’ embarrassing, but all he did was try’n figure out what was goin’ on, ‘cause he was worried.”

“And he didn’t…?”

“Didn’t what? Play along? Ya really think he’d do that?”

“I don’t know! I’d like to think he wouldn’t, but you just never know about people, and he’s kind of…”

“Kinda what? A dick? He is, but not like that. Bro, do ya really, seriously, in yer soul, think any of our friends, _any_ of ‘em, would be anythin’ other’n completely freaked out and worried if I acted like that around them? Really? Ya gonna be friends with someone like that?”

“You might," Blackberry mutters, before realizing what he said. "No! I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t! It’s just that sometimes you do hang around people who might be like that, and I don’t know why you do it but it worries me a lot, and–”

“Bro. Those ain’t my friends. There’s a big difference b‘tween people who jus’ wanna use ya and don’t mind bein’ used in return, and people who are friends. You know that. Ya know that better’n I do, usually, so why’m I the one explainin’ it ta you?”

“That’s all well and good, normally, but these aren’t normal circumstances. I trust them, I really do, but you don’t know what you’re like during those nightmares. You don’t know… Papy, last night, when the tape was coming off and you couldn’t stop shaking, I couldn’t get you to calm down but you had to calm down or you were going to fall apart, so I…” he’s really glad he hasn’t had breakfast, and wishes he’d had less tea, “I pretended to be Muffet, just by talking a little bit like her, and you listened to me. You did exactly what I said the second I said it even if you shouldn’t have been able to, and I could have told you to do anything, so either I remind you of her or anyone could have done that. I can’t let anyone else be around you when you’re like that. I just can’t.” Blackberry sits on the floor and curls into the smallest ball he can manage, skull buried beneath his arms. Why won't Twist understand?

“Shit, bro. Shit. That’s… shit.”

“See? See why no one can…?”

“It ain’t about that. Shit, bro, I’m sorry. I know ya don’ want me apologizing fer nightmares, but that’s just… shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Ya shouldn’ta had ta…”

“Neither should you.”

“Yeah.”

They both sit in silence for awhile.

“Ya know I ain’t mad at ya, right? Fer pretendin’ ta be Muffet?”

“You aren’t?”

“’course not. What were ya gonna do, lemme rattle inta pieces? And that one definitely hurt you more ‘n it hurt me.”

“It could have hurt you.”

“Yeah, any of it coulda, but I’m gonna be fine, long as I’m around people I c’n trust.”

“What if you’re wrong about being able to trust them?”

“Then that’s a risk I’m willin’ ta take.”

“But it’s not a risk you need to take. I can handle it. I’m fine.”

“Yer not fine. Yer gettin’ less fine by the day. How d’ya think yer gonna take care of me if ya won’t take care of yerself?”

“That applies to you too. You do it all the time.”

“Maybe I need ta take my own advice, then, but right now it ain’t about me. I don’ get much choice about how I get takin’ care of.”

“I’m sorry about that. Maybe I’m being too controlling.”

“Yer doin’ the best ya can. How ‘bout ya go get yerself some breakfast an’ I’ll stop buggin ya about it fer awhile.”

“Okay.” Blackberry tries for a reassuring smile. Twist smiles back, so maybe he succeeds.

Maybe it would be okay to let someone help. Not just anyone, but maybe one or two carefully chosen friends? Maybe someone to watch Twist while Blackberry takes a nap, or someone to make dinner so Blackberry can eat without leaving Twist alone. It might be worth considering. Maybe. When he gets tired. Maybe.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter references events from the Patches and Radish fic chain between Lady_Kit and SansyFresh on tumblr. I don’t know if the chapters are all posted together anywhere, but all of those I know of can be found linked at the top of the last chapter here: https://sansy-fresh.tumblr.com/post/171778859371/apologies

The phone rings as Blackberry collects the dirty dishes on his way downstairs for a quick breakfast. Balancing everything on the serving tray, he holds the phone up to his acoustic meatus as he steps out of the room.

“Hello?”

“BLACKBERRY! SO GLAD I COULD REACH YOU. I TRIED CALLING EARLIER, BUT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN JUST A LITTLE BIT TOO EARLY BECAUSE NO ONE ANSWERED.”

“Hello, Papyrus. Yes, we were sleeping. Sorry I missed your call.”

“WE? HAS TWISTED-ME RETURNED FROM HIS TRIP?”

“Oh, yes! He has. He got back a couple of days ago. He was here when I got back from Blue’s house. Sorry, it’s been a bit hectic here. I should have let you know.”

“THAT’S PERFECTLY ALRIGHT. WE ALL GET BUSY FROM TIME TO TIME, AND IT’S EASY TO FORGET THINGS LIKE THAT.”

“That’s certainly true.” Starting down the stairs, Blackberry almost loses a teacup from the serving tray, but catches it with the hand holding the phone. Maybe he’s not quite up to carrying the tray one handed. Fortunately, Papyrus doesn't seem to notice.

“I MUST SAY, I WAS BEGINNING TO GET A LITTLE BIT CONCERNED ABOUT TWISTED-ME. I KNOW YOU WERE QUITE CONCERNED THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU, AND I WAS STARTING TO WONDER IF YOU HAD REASON TO BE.” Blackberry winces. He really hadn’t meant to let anyone see how worried he was, but leave it to Papyrus to figure it out anyway. Oh well, it doesn’t matter now.

“Well, he’s home now, and everything is perfectly fine.” That's all he needs to know.

“SO HE DIDN’T HAVE ANY PROBLEMS RETURNING FROM HIS TRIP?” Why so many questions? It isn’t like Papyrus to be quite this blatantly nosey. Subtly nosey, yes, but not blatantly.

“He got home just fine.” It really isn’t any of Papyrus’s business.

“I’M GLAD TO HEAR IT.”

The tray tilts, again almost spilling its contents down the stairs as Blackberry stumbles against the wall. Nothing falls in the initial collision, but as soon as he rights the tray, the empty smoothie bottle rolls off and bounces down the stairs, losing its lid and its remaining contents along the way.

“Stars damn it,” Blackberry mutters, then blushes dark blue. “Sorry. I just dropped something.”

“THAT’S PERFECTLY FINE. HAPPENS TO THE BEST OF US.” Papyrus hesitates. “BLACKBERRY? ARE YOU CERTAIN THAT EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT?”

“Of course everything is alright. Why wouldn’t everything be alright?”

“WELL, IT’S JUST THAT YOU DON’T ENTIRELY _SOUND_ LIKE EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT.” What’s Papyrus talking about? He sounds perfectly fine! It’s just this stupid tray.

“Well it is. I assure you, everything is perfectly fine and you have no reason to be concerned. I’m not sure why you feel the need to suggest otherwise.” Was that too harsh? Hopefully not. People just need to leave them alone.

“OH, NO REASON, REALLY. YOU SEEM TO HAVE EVERYTHING COMPLETELY UNDER CONTROL.” Ugh. He’s using that voice. That perfectly polite, perfectly innocent voice he uses when he’s saying something perfectly polite and innocent that couldn’t possibly be insinuating anything about anyone because of course someone so perfectly polite and innocent would never do such a thing. Why is he using that voice?

“I do have everything under control. Your concern is appreciated, but entirely unnecessary. Now, is there a reason you called?” Finally reaching the kitchen, he sets the tray on the counter and begins rinsing the dishes in the sink.

“JUST CHECKING IN ON YOU, REALLY. YOU SEEMED RATHER UPSET AT BLUE’S THE OTHER DAY, AND NEITHER OF US HAVE HEARD FROM YOU SINCE THEN.” Just checking in on him. Right. That’s why he keeps asking if something is wrong over and over again even though Blackberry already _told_ him that everything is fine. He shakes his head to clear it. What is he even thinking? That’s a perfectly reasonable thing to ask while checking on someone, and it's kind to check in on friends whose behavior is concerning. He was worried, and clearly it showed. Why is he getting so suspicious of Papyrus, of all people? That argument with Twist must have really gone to his head.

“Sorry, I’m a bit grouchy this morning.” Being paranoid about Papyrus, of all people. What has gotten into him? Of course Papyrus is just concerned. “I really do appreciate your concern, it just isn’t necessary. But thank you for checking on me.” That's still all he needs to know. Just because there’s no reason to be suspicious of Papyrus doesn’t mean he wants to share every detail of their current problems with him. Papyrus is perfectly nice, usually at least, but he’s very taleverse. He just wouldn’t understand.

“THAT’S ALRIGHT.” Papyrus hesitates again, before gently suggesting, “HAVE YOU BEEN GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP?” What?! Not him, too! “I’M NOT FOND OF IT, MYSELF, BUT I KNOW WHEN MY BROTHER OR CHERRY DON’T GET ENOUGH, THEY CAN BECOME SOMEWHAT IRRITABLE. CHERRY, ESPECIALLY.” Papyrus, of all people, is going to bother him about sleeping? Why is everyone so obsessed with him sleeping?

“I’m getting plenty of sleep, and I’m not irritable.”

“IF YOU SAY SO.”

“I do say so. Now, do you need anything else, or did you only call to discuss my sleeping habits?”

“I DIDN’T CALL TO DISCUSS YOUR SLEEPING HABITS AT ALL. I MUST SAY, THIS CONVERSATION IS NOT MAKING ME LESS CONCERNED.”

“There’s nothing to be concerned about. Now, I was about to make breakfast, so unless there’s something important to discuss, I’m going to have to let you go.”

“I WOULDN’T WANT TO KEEP YOU FROM YOUR BREAKFAST. SAY, WHY DON’T YOU GIVE THE PHONE TO TWISTED-ME WHILE YOU COOK? I’VE TRIED CALLING HIM A FEW TIMES, BUT HE HASN’T ANSWERED. I’D LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT HIS TRIP.”

“He’s sleeping.” He might be. Or he might be hallucinating while Blackberry wastes time on this phone call, or he might be perfectly fine except for his tendency to insist that Blackberry needs more sleep. The last thing anyone needs is those two teaming up about it.

“HMM, I WOULDN’T WANT TO INTERRUPT HIS SLEEP, THEN, ALTHOUGH IT DOES SEEM UNUSUAL FOR TWISTED-ME TO BE NAPPING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY.”

“He’s still tired from his trip.”

“OF COURSE. THAT MAKES SENSE. I’LL JUST LET YOU GET ON WITH YOUR BREAKFAST, THEN. IT’S THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY, AFTER ALL!”

“It certainly is. Goodbye, Papyrus.”

“GOODBYE, BLACKBERRY.” Blackberry ends the call before Papyrus can think of any more unnecessary questions, then opens the pantry to look for a quick snack. He’s already wasted too much time.

***

“Hey, bro. Who called?” Twist asks as Blackberry returns to his room with a piece of toast. Not the best choice for someone who keeps forgetting to eat, but at least it’s something. And hey, no tea. Progress?

“Just Papyrus,” Blackberry sighs.

“Yeah? What’d he want?” Please be checking in, please be checking in, please be checking in.

“Just calling to make sure everything was alright.” Yes! “Apparently I seemed a little stressed the last time he saw me, so he and Blue were concerned,” and now they know there’s a problem so they’re coming right over, right? “but I let them know that you’re home and that we’re doing just fine.” Fuck.

“Seriously, bro? Didn’t we just talk about this?”

“Well I’m hardly going to tell Papyrus!”

“Why not? Surely ya don’t think we can’t trust him?”

“It’s not that. It’s just… you know. These are really more fellverse problems than taleverse, and Papyrus is very taleverse, so it just seems kind of, I don’t know, inappropriate, maybe? To get him involved, I mean.”

“’Cause it’s totally ‘appropriate’ fer you ta be involved in some ‘a the shit I been doin’.”

“That’s different. You’re hurt and I’m helping you. _I _understand that it’s all trauma related–”

“Been takin’ some psychology classes on the side?”

“No, although maybe I should. But anyway, I’m just not sure someone like Papyrus or Blue has the experience base to understand what’s going on or know how to deal with it.”

“Like we do know how ta deal with it? Seems ta me like we’re stumblin’ around as much as anyone would be.”

“But we’re managing.” Kind of. “I just don’t think someone like Papyrus is the best person to help deal with flashbacks from working for a fellverse Hotland gang.”

“Maybe not, but it’s better’n you workin’ yerself ta dust.”

“I’m not-!”

“Yeah, yeah, yer just fine, I know. But in case ya happen ta _not_ be ‘just fine’ sometime, an’ it happens ta happen when I ain’t even in the same universe as ‘just fine’, who ya gonna call? Ya rulin’ out everyone taleverse?”

“I’m not ruling them out. I’d just rather not involve them when it isn’t necessary.”

“Okay, fine, no taleverse. Who else? Cash sure ain’t taleverse.”

“You seem awfully determined to get Cash back here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s my friend, and he helped me. A lot.”

“I appreciate that he helped you, but that doesn’t erase all of his previous behavior. If anything, it’s kind of suspicious.”

“It ain’t suspicious. Look, I know he’s kinda rough around the edges, but–”

“He’s more than ‘rough around the edges’! I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but have you forgotten how he’s treated you in literally every interaction you ever had before two days ago?”

“We jus’ mess with each other. Honestly, ‘s mostly me buggin’ him an’ him bein’ grumpy about it.”

“What about the apples?”

“What apples?” But his soul sinks because of course he knows what apples they’re talking about. How much does Blackberry even know about that, anyway?

“You know what apples. The apples Cash very deliberately used to torment you when you were just trying to help him.”

“He didn’t mean any real harm.” Blackberry raises an incredulous brow bone. “What? He didn’t even know why they bothered me.”

“_I_ don’t know why apples bother you, but I know that they do. He did too, or he wouldn’t have done it. And that's not even getting into whatever happened with the closet.”

Twist sighs and shuts his sockets. “Look, bro. Cash was real fucked up back then. Y’know that.”

“Obviously, but that doesn’t excuse it, and I haven’t seen much evidence that anything’s changed.”

“Yeah, ya have, an’ I’ve seen more.”

“Not enough to trust him.”

“Then c’n ya just trust me?”

“Of course I trust you! Just not…”

“Jus’ not my judgement.”

“I do trust your judgement!”

“Really? ‘cause I said I trust Cash, and ya won’ believe me, even though I know him better ‘n you do, an’ I said I want you ta bring some of our friends in here ta help, and ya won’ do it cause ya don’t trust them, even though I’m the one who keeps yellin’ every humiliatin’ secret I got fer all the world ta see, so it seems like I should be the one ta get ta decide whether it’s worth lettin’ anyone see that.”

Tears well in Blackberry’s sockets. “I–”

“Bro. I know ya just wanna protect me. Yer always takin’ care of me and I don’ always make it easy. ’s probly another one ‘a those things we said we’d start talkin’ ‘bout. But right now, yer doin’ too much, an’ there’s too much stress, an’ ya just need a break.”

“You said you’d stop bothering me about that.”

“Guess I lied, then. I heard ya crashin’ around on the stairs. Didja drop everything?”

“No!”

“But ya did have trouble.”

“I was carrying too much and talking on the phone.”

“Normally you’d’a put that stuff down ‘stead ‘a riskin' droppin' all yer teacups down the stairs.”

“I didn’t drop any teacups. Just an empty water bottle.”

“Not the point, an’ you know it.”

“Weren’t we talking about Cash?”

“We were talkin’ ‘bout how ya won’t let anyone come help ‘cause yer tryna protect me when I don’ wanna be protected.”

“You’re making it sound terrible that I don’t want you hurt!”

“You can’t stop me from bein’ hurt.”

“I can stop you from getting hurt even more.”

“No ya can’t.”

“I can at least try to make it better.”

“You can, and ya are. Yer helpin’ more ‘n you c’n imagine, little bro, but ya can’t stop me from gettin’ hurt.”

“I hate it when you're hurt.”

“Ain’t fond of it, myself, but long ‘s I’m gonna be hurt anyway, we might as well get someone in here ta help so you don’t get hurt too.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Ya will be if ya don’t start takin’ care ‘a yerself.”

“I’m not going to put my own comfort over your life. You could die.”

“That’s why we need some help.”

“I don’t trust Cash. Not enough for this. I’m not saying I don’t trust your judgement, I’m just saying that we don’t know how he’ll act in an extreme situation.”

“And yer rulin’ out everyone taleverse?”

“They’re not going to understand. They’re all very uncomfortable with anything fellverse-related and they can easily misinterpret things. There are things they just don’t need to know about.”

“Think they’ve figured out by now that we’re all kinda fucked up.”

“Be that as it may, I’m still not comfortable getting any of them involved.”

“Who, then? Hey, maybe Slim! He wouldn’t mind helpin’ us out.”

“But how would he handle the stress? He’s so anxious as it is. Would it really be fair to him?”

“Hmm. I think he could handle it, but maybe yer right about it not bein' fair ta him. Guess we need someone it wouldn’t bother so much.”

Unable to hold back a grin at his next thought, Blackberry suggests, “Razz fits that criteria pretty well.”

Twist snorts. “Sure, let’s ask him ta come play nurse. He’ll be thrilled.”

“Well you wanted someone who won’t be so upset when you’re hurt.”

“Think he usually wants ta hurt me himself. Might not be too fond 'a my sense 'a humor.”

“I would hope you both could restrain yourselves, but he might not be the best choice.”

Twist chuckles, then returns to the business at hand. “So no Razz, no Slim, no Cash, and nobody taleverse. Only a few left. What’s yer objection ta Edge an’ Red?”

“Nothing, I guess. It’s just… how well do we really know them?”

“C’mon, bro. Yer not still on that, are ya? They’re our friends, an’ they act like friends, an’ they’ve never done anythin’ ta be anythin’ but our friends.”

“I know, but…”

“But what? They’re good guys, an’ they’ve got themselves put t’gether ‘bout as well as anyone else we know.”

“I know, but it’s just… they’re very fell.”

“So are we.”

“Yes, but we both know each other is trustworthy, and we’re only guessing about them.”

“Yer actin’ like we just met them!”

“I am not! I’m just exercising some reasonable caution before deciding to give any fellverse monsters access to my brother who can’t get out of bed or distinguish nightmares from reality.”

“So taleverse monsters can’t handle it ‘cause they won’t understand an’ fellverse monsters can’t be trusted. Seems like yer rulin’ out everyone.”

“See why it’s dangerous to bring someone in to help? It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just really hard to decide who to trust.”

“I see why yer havin’ trouble with it, but that don’ mean I agree with you. Ya can’t keep takin’ care of me by yerself. It’s not workin’.”

“It is too.”

“Right up until ya trip carryin’ that tray down the stairs an’ hit yer head at the bottom. Then where we gonna be?”

“That won’t happen. Honestly, Papy, you have to stop imagining these ridiculous scenarios.”

“It's not ridiculous. Yer gettin’ clumsy, and yer not thinkin’ straight, and I know it upsets ya when we keep arguin’, which is gonna make it even harder ta think straight.”

“Then we should stop arguing.”

“Love to, but I’m not gonna let this go. We need help.”

“There isn’t anyone who can help.”

“There’re plenty ‘a people, you just keep comin’ up with reasons ta rule all of ‘em out.”

“I’m not ‘coming up with reasons’. The reasons are real.”

“But not as big a deal as yer makin’ ‘em out ta be.”

“Well what would you suggest we do?”

“I already toldja what I suggest. Is there anyone we know who yer not gonna insist can’t help fer some reason?”

“I don’t know. Oh, Lotus, maybe? He’s fellverse, but he doesn’t really act like it.” Huh. Could Lotus help?

“Maybe. Think he would if we asked him?”

“He might. He’s very kind, and I have seen him try to take care of a lot of us, even if he doesn’t always choose the most appropriate ways to do it. I can’t really blame him for that, given how long he was a sweetpiece. It must be difficult to break away from that mindset.”

Twist's enthusiasm deflates. “Oh, right. There's that. It's a good idea, bro, but… I dunno.” It’s not that he forgot that Lotus was a sweetpiece. He certainly makes no secret of it. The reminder still makes him uncomfortable when he thinks about how he acts during some of his nightmares.

“Why not? I know he seems delicate, but sweetpieces are trained to act like that, and he really isn’t. I think he could handle it.”

"It ain't him who couldn’t handle it. ‘s just… It don’t seem right. Puttin’ him in a position where he might hafta deal with… fuck, no offense, but I hate talkin’ 'bout this stuff with you.”

“No offense taken. It would be weird if you liked it.”

“Yeah. But anyway, about Lotus, I agree that he’d probly be helpful, but I’d hate ta ask him ta do that, ya know?”

“I do see the problem. Let’s just think about it for awhile and we can discuss it more later.”

“Okay. Just… drink some water, okay? When was the last time ya had any?”

“I had some tea just a few–”

“Not tea, water.”

“Umm… I don’t know?” Blackberry shrugs sheepishly.

“How ‘bout ya go get some now?”

“Alright, I will, and then you stop worrying, okay?”

“Not gonna stop worryin’ ‘till ya’ve got someone here ta help.”

“I’ll be right back.” Blackberry darts out of the room before Twist can respond. Hopefully he won’t trip down the stairs.

***

Neither of them mentions getting help or sleeping when Blackberry returns with water for both of them, nor does Twist mention the cup of tea that Blackberry brings. What’s the point? He’ll do what he wants anyway. Once everything is situated to Blackberry's satisfaction, they start another round of Uno. The game runs smoothly for the first few minutes, until Twist plays a green 8 and Blackberry continues watching him expectantly. Twist returns his expectant gaze, but still Blackberry does not take his turn.

“Bro?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s yer turn.”

“It is? Didn’t I just go?”

“Yeah, an’ then I went, an’ now it’s yer turn again.”

“Oh." Blackberry looks down at the deck. "Silly me, I must have missed it.” He plays a green 4.

Several turns later, Blackberry scowls when he has to draw from the pile. He keeps scowling as he draws more cards. At first, Twist smiles at his brother’s irritation, but as Blackberry draws farther into the deck, his brow bones furrow. “Bro?”

“What?”

“Have ya really not found one yet?”

“One what?”

“A card you c’n play?”

“A what? Oh.” He scans the massive stack of cards that have accumulated in his hand and sheepishly plays one. “Sorry.”

“Ferget what yer lookin’ for?”

“No. Well, um, yes. But I remember now.”

“Uh huh. Maybe we should take a break.”

“Don’t be silly. We can’t stop in the middle of a game.”

“Pretty sure we know who’s gonna win, now that ya got half the deck in yer hand.”

“We should still keep playing. What else are we going to do?”

“Dunno, but ya don’t really seem up ta playing a game.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yer havin’ trouble with Uno.”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not. Whole reason we picked it was ‘cause it wasn’t too hard fer my scrambled skull ta keep track of, and now yer doin’ worse than I am.”

“You always beat everyone at cards. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Didn’t say it meant anything, bro. Jus’ said maybe we need a break.”

“Well what else are we going to do?”

“Take a nap?”

“You’re welcome to take a nap, but I’m not tired.”

“Yer not gonna feel tired long as ya keep pourin’ caffeine down yer throat, but that don’ mean ya ain’t. Hey, d’ya know if someone c’n overdose on caffeine?”

“Probably, but I’m not.”

“How d’ya know that?”

“Because I’m fine. If you don’t want to play anymore, what else would you like to do? I could read to you.”

“Sure. Grab a book an’ climb on in next ta me, an’ I’ll try ta read along.”

“Nice try, brother. Maybe we should try another game instead.”

“Sure. Any ideas?”

“I don’t know. Oh, maybe go fish! That shouldn’t be too difficult. We could play it with the Uno cards.”

“Works fer me. Let’s see if it goes any better than Uno.”

***

Go fish does not go better than Uno. Blackberry can’t remember when he’s ever been more frustrated. What is wrong with him? He can’t keep track of whose turn it is in a two-person game, and spends most of the game not noticing a match in his own hand. It’s absolutely ridiculous. The frustration is giving him a headache. It's definitely the frustration, because he isn't tired and hasn't had too much caffeine. He hasn't.

It’s unclear how long the game would have continued, but it’s interrupted by a node dissolving. Blackberry moves the cards out of the way as Twist screams and thrashes, then stands by helplessly for several minutes before being devastated by the realization that he forgot Twist’s towels. His tears sizzle along with the water as they fall on Twist’s ribs, useless apologies spilling from his mouth. He doesn’t know how to stop failing his poor brother.

He does manage to have water ready before Twist starts to cough, so at least he’s doing that right. Twist is briefly confused and thinks he’s being punished for something, but he’s not stuck on the idea. It only takes a little convincing for him to believe that they’re safe together on the surface and no one else is in the house. It has all become almost routine at this point <strike>so how could he forget the towels?!</strike>

Twist passes out soon after that, but doesn’t have any nightmares. Blackberry uses the time to clean up a little and make himself a fresh pot of tea, which he brings upstairs to reduce the amount of time he needs to leave Twist alone. He _will_ take good care of his brother and he _will_ stop making stupid mistakes. The teapot almost spills when he sets it down too close to the edge after pouring a fresh cup, but he catches it so it’s fine. Everything is fine.

Twist wakes up disoriented but fairly happy. “Heya, bro. Whatcha doin’?”

“Cleaning.”

“Oh. Makes sense.” Blackberry continues cleaning. He’d like to change Twist’s sheets, but he’d rather not disturb Twist to do it. It would be pointless without giving Twist a bath, anyway, so instead he’s started wiping down the walls. They haven't been cleaned in months. How terribly irresponsible of him. “The walls are dirty?”

“They’re filthy. I can’t believe I let them get this bad.”

“Oh. Didn't notice. Should I help?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Okay.”

Blackberry keeps cleaning.

“Hey bro, ya dropped somethin’.”

“I’ll get it in a minute.”

“I got it.” Blackberry nods, then whips around towards Twist when he realizes what he just heard. As expected, Twist is leaning over the edge of the bed, reaching for a cloth on the floor.

“No!” Twist flinches, losing his precarious balance and plummeting towards the floor. Gasping, Blackberry darts across the room, catching his shoulders a moment before his skull hits the floor.

Twist turns his head to grin up at him. “Good catch, bro. Thanks.” Good catch?! Twist almost smashed his skull in and he’s telling Blackberry ‘good catch’?

“What are you doing?!” Twist flinches, but Blackberry is too upset to stop. “Why won’t you just stay in bed? You can’t even sit up! Why would you think you could get out of bed?!” He lifts Twist back into bed, probably less gently than he should.

Curling in on himself, Twist stutters, “I – sorry, uh I, I dunno, I…”

“Just stay in bed.” Having thoroughly chastised his entirely senseless brother, Blackberry turns back to the wall he was cleaning. Hm, no more smudges, and that was the last wall, so what should he clean next? He certainly can’t stop.

He holds a hand up to his aching skull. He can’t think straight. It would help if that noise would stop. What’s causing it? It sounds like something is shaking apart. Is Twist doing something again? He turns to check, and his soul sinks into the floor.

Twist is making the noise, not because he’s doing anything but because his bones are rattling as he stares at Blackberry in utter terror. Oh no. No, no, no. What has he done?

“Papy?” Twist whimpers. “Brother? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just so worried.” He approaches the bed. “I’m sorry I yelled.” Fighting back tears, <strike>why is he always crying? All he ever does is fight with Twist and cry. He’s a terrible brother</strike>, he reaches out a hand, not even sure what he means to do. Twist flinches away, so he pulls it back.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled. I don’t even know why I did. You don’t need to be scared. Please, Papy, please don’t be scared of me. I’m so sorry.”

Twist whimpers again. Does he even understand what Blackberry is saying? Probably not, or if he does he still could be wildly misinterpreting it. How could he do this to his big brother? Why does he keep messing up?

Twist’s rapid breathing pulls Blackberry out of his latest round of self-pity. This is ridiculous. He sets his brother off and then whines about it. What good does that do? His job right now is to get through to Twist, and endless explanations and apologies aren’t going to do that. The most important thing is to convince him that they’re safe.

“It’s okay brother. Everything is going to be alright. You’re safe and I’m safe. Everyone is safe. We’re living on the surface and we’re safe.”

“Sans?”

“Yes, Papy, it’s me, Sans. I go by Blackberry now that we’re on the surface, but I’m still Sans, and I’m safe. You are too.”

“Sans is pissed.”

“I’m not – Sans is not ‘pissed’. Sans is in a bad mood for no good reason and has a bit of a headache, but that’s not your fault.”

“No, I… I did… I dunno. What’d I do?”

“Nothing bad enough to deserve being yelled at. You were just trying to help, but I got scared when you fell out of bed and I lost my temper.”

“Yer not… yer Sans?” How could he ever even think to yell at his brother with his skull scrambled like this? What is wrong with him?

“Yes, I’m Sans. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay.” Twist’s sockets close, and his body relaxes into sleep. Blackberry goes in search of something to fight his headache, then swallows the pills with more tea.

***

Twist wakes up in yet another good mood, and much more coherent. Blackberry isn’t sure how he manages it, but he’s grateful.

“Papy? I really am sorry that I yelled at you.”

“’s okay, bro. I‘m kinda prone ta overreactin’ right now.”

“I was just so scared you'd hurt yourself, but that’s no excuse.”

“I know yer scared. Ya keep thinkin’ I’m gonna shatter if I hit the floor.”

“You almost landed head first. What am I supposed to do if you crack your skull open? I can’t heal you.”

“I know. Don’ think I was thinkin’ too clearly. I get why you were worried.”

“It was no excuse to yell at you, though.”

“Probly a little excessive, yeah, but ya had no way ‘a knowin’ I’d freak out like that.”

“I wish you’d stop making excuses for people hurting you.”

“I don’ make excuses fer people hurtin’ me. Ever seen me make excuses fer Muffet?”

“No, but she’s about the only one. As long as anyone treats you better than she did, you act like it’s just fine, and it isn’t. It’s part of why I’m so worried about letting anyone else come here.”

“I know, bro, but ya gotta. Look at how yer actin’. Yellin’ at me fer doin’ somethin’ stupid? That ain’t like you. You'd be yellin' at me all the time if ya did that.”

“I’m really sorry. I know I'm messing up a lot. Do you… do you not want me to take care of you anymore? Is that why you’re so insistent that we need to tell someone?”

“What? No, bro, no. That ain’t it at all.”

“I’d understand if that was it. I’m doing a terrible job.”

“No yer not. A few mistakes is not the same as doin’ a terrible job.”

“Then why do you want someone else to take care of you?”

“’cause you need a break! Bro, can’t ya see how bein’ tired is makin’ ya make more mistakes? Ya can’t keep goin’ like this, an’ I can’t help.”

“You don’t need to help. All you need to do is work on getting better.”

“How’m I s'posed ta do that when I can’t stop worryin’ about you? Yer not doin’ good. And no, I don’ mean yer not doin’ a good job. I mean ya can’t think straight or, or walk in a straight line, an’ I jus’ wanna bundle ya off ta bed but I can’t even keep my own skull on straight most of the time.”

“I’m sorry I keep making you worry about me.”

“That’s not what I’m sayin’. Just… please come take a break. Please.”

“I can't do that right now. We'll discuss it later. How about I go get us some lunch instead? Or is it dinner time?”

“Beats me. Been sleepin’ most of the day. Ain’t a bad way ta pass the time. You should try it.”

“I’ll be right back with your smoothie.”

***

Downstairs, Blackberry takes out some of his irritation on the nuts he wants to try in Twist’s smoothie. Technically, the protein powder should provide all of his necessary protein, but he'd rather feed his brother as little of that artificial junk as possible. The blender can’t puree nuts like it can fruits and vegetables, though. Hence, the opportunity to work out some frustration by grinding them into a paste. The only downside is that it takes longer than he’d like, but they could both use a little time alone anyway.

Blending the nut paste into the smoothie, he checks the consistency and flavor, grimaces, and adds in a generous measure of honey. Twist will probably say it’s too sweet now, but he can’t quite bear to serve someone the unsweetened version. Besides, Twist needs the extra energy. He tastes it again. Better now, but still not something he’d choose to drink. There’s probably something in the spice rack that could make it a little more palatable, but he’s already left Twist alone for longer than he’d like. He checks the clock. Fifteen minutes! Anything could have happened in fifteen minutes!

Giving up on improving the flavor, he quickly pours the smoothie into a water bottle with a nice, wide straw. He rushes back to Twist’s room but stops at the door to calm himself. No need to worry Twist if nothing is wrong or wake him up if he’s sleeping. He’s already caused enough panic attacks today. Once he has his own almost-panic under control, he calmly steps into the room where his brother has managed to prop himself up against a stack of pillows. He must be feeling better.

Twist’s eyes are closed and his face is tight when Blackberry comes through the door, but he smiles and opens his eyes as Blackberry approaches the bed.

“Hey little bro.” His voice is tight too, but also sounds genuinely pleased. Maybe they can do something without an argument, for once. That seems to be difficult, lately.

“Hi, Papy. I brought you dinner.” Blackberry holds the smoothie out like an offering. Twist reaches out to take it.

“Thanks, bro. Was feelin’ kinda hungry.” Blackberry steadies his hands until he has the smoothie safely resting against his sternum. Twist makes a determined effort to get the straw into his mouth, but gives up, chuckling, as it first slides across a cheekbone and then ends up in his broken eye socket.

“Little help here, bro? Coordination seems shot.” Torn between distress and amusement at his brother’s predicament, Blackberry helps Twist get the straw in his mouth. He should be upset at seeing Twist struggle with something so simple, but Twist’s amusement is contagious.

“Maybe I should bring you a sippy cup next time,” he teases.

“Mmm. Keep bringin’ me drinks like this, and you c’n put ‘em in a baby bottle fer all I care.” Twist closes his eyes in pleasure as the cold liquid slides down his throat and doesn’t say a thing about the sweetness. Not too much honey, then. Maybe he could have gotten away with a little more.

Everything seems alright in here. Maybe there’s time to clean up the kitchen while Twist finishes his smoothie. Maybe he can even get the next one started so he won’t have to be gone so long next time. He’s just about to tell Twist that he’ll be back in a minute and to yell if he needs anything when Twist grimaces.

“What’s wrong?” Please don’t be another attack, please don’t be another attack.

“Nothin’, nothin’. Jus’ drank too fast. Brain freeze.”

“Brain freeze? It’s not that cold, and you weren’t drinking that fast…”

“Brain freeze.” Twist nods, then winces. “Jus’ a headache. Jus’…” His hands spasm, and lose their grip on the water bottle. Blackberry grabs it before it leaks on the bed, then looks back at Twist. One hand is clutching his skull and the other his ribs, as sweat beads on his bones.

“Papy? What’s… oh no.”

“Think… think I wanna lay down now.”


	23. Chapter 23

“Think… think I wanna lay down now.” Twist’s hands clench, claws digging into bone as his good socket flares wide.

“Okay, it's okay, I've got you, brother. Just a second, let me get some of these pillows out of the way.” Blackberry supports Twist’s shoulders as he pulls some pillows out from behind him. He doesn’t like the way Twist’s skull lolls back while he does it, like his neck can’t support it. Twist doesn’t like it either, from the way he moans.

Tossing the extra pillows aside, Blackberry gently lowers Twist back onto the bed. Twist shivers as his scapulae make contact with the bed, sockets wide and eyelight focused somewhere on the ceiling. Still clutching his skull and ribs, his claws scrabble frantically against the bones.

“Sans. Sans. Think I wanna lay down now. Think… Think I… I wanna… I…”

“Shh, Papy, shh. You are lying down. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Okay. ‘m okay. I - I wanna lay down now. Wanna lay down now. Sans. Sans, wanna…” He gasps, then barely manages to exhale before he’s gasping again, breaths coming faster and faster until he’s hyperventilating. “Wanna lay down... please, please, I wanna…”

Blackberry wants to cry from sheer helplessness. “I don’t understand, Papy. I don’t know what you want. You are lying down. I don’t know how to help you. Are there still too many pillows?” He starts to remove one more, but Twist’s hand drops to the pillow, claws digging into the fabric. “Not the pillows, then? What is it? You’re already lying down.”

“Wanna lay down, please, think I need ta… ‘S better it’d be better can… better… wanna lay down please I can’t move I can’t… won’ lemme, please.” The hand on Twist’s ribs wraps around his sternum, claws digging in like the others are digging into the pillow. He’s hurting himself, so Blackberry has to pull his hand away. Twist moans when he does. Blackberry tries to lay the hand gently on the bed beside Twist, but when he tries to let go of it Twist whimpers and clutches his fingers hard enough to bruise.

“Lemme go lemme go dunno why, please, didn’ mean ta please won’ leave won’ please lemme go jus…" Twist pauses and shakes his head, "No, tha’s not… Sans. Sans I wanna lay down. Please Sans can’t… Lemme go please le' go I need…” He trails off panting, breaths slicing through his throat. Struggling to move, he gets an arm underneath him and raises his back partway off the bed, then collapses with a shriek.

Blackberry watches it all helplessly, still trying not to cry. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I don’t know what you want. What are you trying to do?”

Twist struggles to pull his arm out from underneath his back with no success, so Blackberry helps. This time Twist yanks his hand away as soon as it’s free. He tries to pull his legs up towards his ribcage, but his knees drop to the side as he tenses with a whimper. “Bro. Help. Need… I need…” His body jolts so hard that the bones clack together. “Please wanna lay down,” he gasps, magic building in his broken socket.

Blackberry has to do something, but what can he do? Twist isn't making any sense. “I don’t understand what you want. Please, brother, you’ve got to tell me how to help. I’ll do anything! Just tell me.” But Twist can’t speak anymore. His mouth opens, but all that come out are strangled exhalations. Then he starts to cough; tiny, gasping, frantic coughs, like he can’t get enough air to cough at all but can’t stop coughing. His eyes widen in panic as he struggles to sit up to get more air but quickly collapses. Seeing what Twist is trying to do, Blackberry climbs into the bed and gets behind him to support him so he can breathe. Twist’s ribs are hot, so hot now that they’re hard to touch with bare bone, and he's squirming weakly but constantly, making him hard to hold. The coughing doesn’t stop but does lose its frantic quality now that there’s enough air behind it. It sounds dry, like the heat in Twist’s chest has taken all the moisture from his throat. He needs his towels. Where are the towels?

The towels, of course, are by the water pitcher on the dresser, right where Blackberry left them but completely out of reach. He could get them, but Twist is barely managing to keep breathing as it is, so he doesn’t dare lay him down. He shouldn’t be coughing yet anyway! Why is he coughing? What would make it stop?

Maybe Twist can drink some water? That could help with the coughing, if not the heat. But of course, the water bottle is horrifyingly light when Blackberry lifts it from the nightstand, because of course he forgot to refill it, because he’s done everything else wrong so why would he stop now?

“I’m so sorry, brother. I don’t know how to help.” Twist’s coughing isn’t stopping, but it is getting weaker. Everything about Twist is getting weaker, and his ribs are so hot. Could he even handle being laid back against the pillows long enough for Blackberry to go get anything? What if he can’t breathe? But he’s barely breathing now!

In desperation, Blackberry grabs the half-drunk smoothie and holds it against his brother’s jaw. It’s a liquid, so it should probably help, but only if he can get Twist to drink it.

“Here, this will help.” He gets no response, just more coughing, so he tries setting the straw between Twist’s teeth. “I know it’s hard, but this will make you better. It’ll help you stop coughing.” He still gets no response. Then an especially bad jolt almost shoves the straw down Twist’s throat. Twist whimpers. “Please drink, Papy. Please. It’s the only thing I can reach that might help.”

After an interminable length of time, Twist gasps, “no apples.”

“Of course it’s not apples! I would never give you apples. Papy, please drink for me. I made this for you!” Or just keep coughing to death while Blackberry's own soul tears itself in half.

Maybe some of the desperation in his voice gets through, or maybe Twist just can’t think of anything else to do about the straw shoved in his mouth, but either way, he starts to drink. Thank every star, it does actually help, stopping the cough nearly as quickly as water does. It does nothing for the burning ribs, but with the end of the coughing Twist is able to breathe again. Hopefully it’s finally safe to put him down and get the towels.

Twist sighs as the first towel wipes across his ribs, momentarily losing some of the desperation from his expression. The respite doesn’t last long, though, before he’s screaming and clawing at his ribs again. He snarls when Blackberry catches his hands, but once he realizes who has them he returns the grip tightly, whimpering. Relieved to be able to provide some comfort in all this misery, Blackberry ignores the creaking in his bones, knowing that it won’t last long. It's just a node. It will be over soon. Except that it just keeps going. Five minutes, ten, thirty, Twist’s agony never ends. Several times, the water on his ribs begin to sizzle, so Blackberry pulls his hands free to refresh the towels. Once, Twist starts coughing again, but manages to drink some water when Blackberry presses the straw against his teeth. For the most part, he seems lost in agony, but every once in a while he squeezes Blackberry’s hand in a way that isn’t claws trying to split the joints apart. It’s the best sign he gives that he knows Blackberry is there, so Blackberry keeps squeezing his hands in return as they wait for it to end.

Near the 35-minute mark, Twist starts to calm. His grip gets lighter, his cries become quieter, and his writhing stops altogether.

“Brother?” Twist doesn’t respond, but maybe he’s not quite out of it yet. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk yet. That was a long one.” So long that Blackberry started to get just a little bit worried, but it’s over now and Twist is getting better and soon everything will be fine.

The HP alarm quickly disabuses him of that notion. Pulling Twist’s soul out past scorching ribs, he wonders how he could ever have thought it was over. Obviously the attack is still happening. Obviously. What idiot would think Twist not moving meant Twist was fine? They’ve done this several times a day for days now and he doesn’t even think to check for HP depletion? What’s wrong with him? He’s a terrible little brother.

Twist nearly falls off the bed from the convulsions as magic is injected into his soul. Blackberry climbs back in bed next to him to hold him in place. Twist fights him for a moment after the convulsions stop, but then attempts to curl his body around Blackberry’s. Blackberry helps him to do so, strokes his skull, and comforts himself with the knowledge that it has to end soon. It never lasts this long. It has to be almost done.

Ten minutes later he’s less certain of that. Twist has shown no signs of getting better, and is in fact currently writhing and desperately trying to get to his soul. He keeps doing that even as the monitor announces that his HP has once again dropped to critical levels. He nearly manages to grab his soul when Blackberry tries to remove it for another injection, moving so fast that Blackberry has to leave it in place rather than risk being too slow to get it out of his reach. He keeps fighting to reach it even as his HP keeps dropping, until Blackberry finally folds both of Twist’s arms across his ribcage and lays himself across them to hold them in place. Twist’s struggles turn quickly to incoherent pleading but Blackberry is able to inject the magic with no claws in anyone’s soul.

The next half hour is spent in an extended hell of screaming, as Twist remains lost in agony and Blackberry’s fear grows. Shouldn’t it be over by now? Surely it should. Nobody said anything about a time limit, but it’s never lasted this long. Wouldn’t someone have told him if it could last this long? Well no, because no one told him anything, because no one cares, because no one has ever cared about them except themselves so it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know what he’s doing because no one else can be trusted. His skull rings from the screaming and it aches but at least he’s in no more danger of falling asleep, not as long as this keeps up. He won’t abandon his brother even if he is completely useless.

Then Twist goes quiet.

“Brother? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not okay, stupid. “Is it over?” Twist doesn’t answer, which has become painfully familiar, lately. At least he isn’t screaming.

Unwilling to wait for the HP monitor, <strike>his aching head can’t take the noise,</strike> Blackberry checks him. His HP is fine.

“Papy?” He might think it was over, except he’s fallen for that too many times before and Twist is still very tense. His joints are locked, his jaw is clenched, and his hands are curled into fists. Blackberry lightly rests a hand on his ribcage. Still hot. Maybe it just hasn’t had a chance to cool off yet? Or maybe it won’t cool off because it isn’t over because something is wrong and Twist is about to melt while Blackberry sits here uselessly saying his name.

A low whine escapes Twist’s throat, but is immediately silenced. Not like the sound reached its natural conclusion. More like it was forcefully cut off. “Brother?” Twist whines again, then turns his face away. “What’s wrong? I mean, what’s more wrong than normal? I mean, oh, Papy, I don’t know how to help.”

“Ain’t gonna.”

“What? Wait, when you say things that don’t make sense you’re usually not talking to me. Are you talking to me? Probably you can't answer that.”

“Don’ give a fuck. Ain’t gonna.”

“You aren’t going to what? Or should I even be asking you that? Maybe I should… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

Twist’s face scrunches up as he gasps, then slowly returns to a neutral expression. Not a relaxed expression, not at all, but one that’s very forcefully neutral. “See? Heh. Do whatcha want. Don’ give a fuck.”

“I’m not… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Blackberry doesn’t have any right to be having this much trouble figuring out what to do. Twist is the one who’s hurt, not him. But his skull is so foggy, and he can’t figure out what’s going on with Twist.

“Ain’t gonna. Do whatcha want. Ain’t gonna work.”

“What won’t work? I don’t know how to help. Do you need to know we’re safe? But do you even know who I am? You're not going to believe me if you think I'm Muffet.”

“Think a little pain’s gonna make me do it?” So he’s still in pain, which probably means the node is still dissolving, but he’s also hallucinating at the same time? Maybe? How is Blackberry supposed to know? He doesn’t know anything.

“Papy? It’s Sans. Please listen to me. It’s just Sans.”

“NO!” Blackberry jumps at the force of Twist’s shout. “Yer not doin’ this ta him.”

“I’m not doing anything to anyone! I’m Sans!”

“Yer… no ya ain’t!”

“Yes I am! I am Sans!”

“No, yer… Ya can’t… yer Sans?”

“Yes! Please believe me. I’m your little brother. I promise I’m not Muffet.”

“Yer…” Twist blinks. “Sans?” he shakily exhales.

“Yes!”

“Sans…” he moans, then his face crumples in agony. “Sans, yer Sans. I thought… thought… Sans it hurts.”

“I know, brother, I know it hurts. It will be over soon. It has to be.”

“Has ta… gotta be… gotta stop. Why won’ it stop?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why it won’t stop.”

“Somethin’ wrong? Sans it hurts.”

“I know,” Blackberry sniffs. Now he can't stop himself from crying. He’s always wasting time crying when he should be helping, but he doesn’t know how to help.

“Maybe…” Twist trails off in a moan.

“Maybe what? I’ll do anything, I promise!”

“Maybe call Iggy?”

Except that. Of all the people to call, she’s the worst. What if she tries to take Twist away? Can Blackberry even stop her? “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Dunno. Dunno anythin’,” Twist whimpers, then whispers, “Sans, it hurts.”

“I know.”

“Hurts!”

“I know it hurts.” Apparently it hurts so badly that Twist is willing to tell Blackberry about it. On top of that, it’s not stopping. It’s been… oh stars, it’s been nearly two hours. How could he let it go on this long? “I’ll call Iggy.” Twist only whimpers in acknowledgement.

***

Iggy turns around in front of the mirror. She wouldn’t normally get dressed up, especially not for lunch, but she hasn’t had much time to spend with Undyne, or ‘Scales’ as she goes by on the surface, lately. All of her energy has been focused on the LV project. Now, with Twist out of the lab enjoying happy little family time with people who don’t have a clue what to do with him, she finally has some free time. She’s not going to waste it.

Deciding the outfit is good enough, she collects her purse and heads out to meet Undyne. Just as she turns around to lock the door, the phone rings.

“Can’t it wait?” she mutters, checking the number. It’s not one she knows. “It shouldn’t be another scammer. Surely they haven’t changed their tactics enough yet to get around my latest call blocker.”

The call goes to voicemail, but the caller hangs up and calls again. She sighs. “Maybe it’s work-related. Guess I’d better answer.” She accepts the call. “Hello?”

“Iggy! Something’s gone wrong with the treatment and I don’t know what’s wrong because at first I thought it was normal but it won’t stop and I keep thinking he’s getting better but then it starts again except I don’t think it’s ever actually stopped–” someone screams in the background as something crashes “– Papy don’t do that you’ll hurt yourself! I know it hurts but you’ve got to stop!”

“Blackberry?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, this is Blackberry. Can you help?”

“Probably. Tell me what’s happening.” So much for getting there early, but Undyne will wait for her. She's good like that.

“I don’t know! I thought it was a node but those don’t go on this long. Do they?”

“How long has it been?”

“Two hours! Didn’t I tell you?”

“No, you didn’t. You’re not making much sense. You need to tell me exactly what’s happening.” It's probably nothing, but considering the disasters that tend to happen around these idiots, it's best to listen, just in case.

“I don’t know! I already told you that!”

Iggy sighs again. At this rate she’s going to miss Undyne’s whole lunch hour. The things she does for her patients. “I know you don’t know what’s going on. I’m asking you to describe what’s happening.”

“I… He’s hurt! It keeps hurting him, and he’s confused, and his HP keeps falling - no Papy don’t do that!”

“What’s he doing?” Why do these skeletons keep insisting that they can handle this themselves? They clearly can’t.

“He keeps trying to take out his soul.”

“Has he managed to get it?” That’s a serious concern, given the unreasonable opposition the skeletons all have to restraining Twist’s arms.

“No, but he’s come close.” There’s more screaming in the background, and Blackberry takes a steadying breath. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

“The best thing would be to bring him back to the lab–” a shriek comes over the phone line, followed by frantic reassurances. Taking pity on the small, annoying skeleton, she continues, “but since you’ve all decided my lab is some kind of torture chamber, I’ll see what I can do from here.”

“Thank you,” Blackberry whispers, and almost sounds like he means it. As if any of them know how to show gratitude.

“Now let’s try to be a little more specific. Other than the length of time, has anything happened outside of what would normally be expected from a node dissolving?”

“He started coughing really early.”

“Did water help?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, then.”

“He’s really confused.”

“Obviously. I’ve rarely seen him coherent since the treatment started.” Did Blackberry just growl at her? Surely not. “Anything else?”

“He was hallucinating a few minutes ago.”

“That’s to be expected, given how often he does that and how long this one has lasted. I’d be surprised if the two problems didn’t overlap at some point. You’ve probably seen it before, even if you didn’t realize it. Anything else?”

“I – I don’t think so. I don’t know. It’s just going on so long. That’s never happened before.”

“Not with him, but it does happen. Have you seen any changes in his soul?”

“No. Do I need to check?”

“Probably to be safe. Just look for dark patches. I don’t think we’re dealing with corrupted magic, but it never hurts to check.”

“Okay.” Judging by the commotion making its way through the phone line, it does hurt to check, but that’s their own fault for insisting on letting Twist move freely when he’s not in his right mind. Everything would be so much easier and safer if they would just bring him back to the lab.

“It doesn’t look any different than it usually does,” Blackberry pants.

“Probably just a really stubborn node, then, or maybe a series of them. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to… how long does it keep being ‘nothing to worry about’? Papy has been screaming for two hours!”

“Well obviously it’s painful, but there’s no indication that it’s harmful. You just have to expect this kind of thing when you’re dealing with that much LV.”

“What can I do?”

“Whatever you normally do. It’ll go away on its own like it always does.”

“What if it doesn’t? My brother can’t keep doing this forever.” Oh no. His voice is getting wobbly. Please don’t start crying. Another reason to keep family members away from the treatment is that they cry, and then it becomes so much harder to do her job. Damage control! What can she do for damage control?

“It won’t go on forever. Look, give it another hour, and if he’s still not better, call me back and I’ll come over. I won’t even try to take him to the lab unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“You’re sure he’ll get better?”

“Definitely sure.” As sure as she can be, which is pretty sure but never 100%. This is why family can’t be involved! They care too damn much for anything less than 100% certainty <strike>and can almost remind her that she used to care, too, before they all started melting and</strike> – shut _up_!

“Okay. Umm…” He sniffs. Damn it, stop that! This phone call needs to end. The research subject’s annoying, hypocritical brother is not going to ruin her lunch date <strike>with someone who is going to need this treatment someday, too.</strike> What has gotten into her?

Twist screams again in the background. <strike>Damn, it must hurt, to have such an effect on a tough guy like him.</strike> Ugh! Lunch date, lunch date, lunch date. No over-empathizing with the research subjects. It’s highly unscientific. Ruins the whole process. “Call me if anything changes. Good bye.”

“But–!” She doesn’t hear the rest of his statement, and doesn’t care to, because it doesn’t matter and her lunch date is waiting.

***

Blackberry drops the phone. Useless. It’s all useless. Everything he tries is useless and Iggy doesn’t even think there’s a problem. Of course she doesn’t think there’s a problem. As long as Twist isn’t dying, how could there possibly be a problem? What could ever be wrong with someone screaming for – he glances at the clock – two and a half hours?

It’s become clear by this point that Twist can’t reach his soul when it’s in his ribcage, so Blackberry has stopped worrying about it. He does worry when Twist tries to claw directly through his ribs, but he’s getting weak enough that even a few towels are usually enough to stop him from doing any damage. At the moment, he’s quietly scratching at a spot near his collar bone. That’s worth keeping an eye on but not immediately dangerous. Blackberry takes a moment to appreciate the lack of screaming, until the monitor reminds him that it’s never a good thing when Twist stops screaming, and of course his HP is falling while his useless little brother enjoys some peace and quiet.

Twist whines when his soul is removed and watches Blackberry through sockets that are utterly lost and afraid. Then he screams again when the magic is injected, and nearly gets his soul again when Blackberry waits slightly too long for him to recover from the injection to return it to its place. Then they go back to their regularly scheduled screaming and sizzling ribs, before Blackberry realizes that it’s probably time to replace the towels again.

He leans over to remove an old towel, when a harsh voice hisses, “back off.”

“Papy?” Blackberry freezes for a moment, then reaches for the towel again.

In an instant, Twist’s claws are digging into his wrist with incredible strength. “I said back off, bitch.”

Shocked, Blackberry tries to pull his arm away from Twist’s vice-like grip, with no success. “Let go! Brother, you’re hurting me.” He looks worridly into his brother’s sockets.

Twist’s good eyelight is like ice, as magic builds in the cracks of the broken one. A grin crosses his face, but not one that has ever held any hint of joy or mercy. “Why should I?”

“Because you’re hurting me! Why are you doing this?” This isn’t Blackberry’s brother, at least not the brother he knows. It might be the brother that had the whole town of Snowdin terrified to make a wrong move in his presence, but why is he turning it on Blackberry?

“Why not? Never gave a fuck ‘bout doin’ it ta me. Why shouldn’t I take some ‘a my own back?”

“You – I – Papy?” Twist looks like he wants to kill him. Why does Twist want to kill him?! <strike>Not like Blackberry has been acting like a terrible control freak and making stupid decision after stupid decision on top of it.</strike> Twist wouldn't hate him for that. He wouldn't!

“Why the fuck ya callin’ me Papy? Think ya got the right ta call me whatever the fuck ya want?” The grip on his wrist tightens enough that the bones creak. Blackberry whimpers.

“I – I don’t know why – why are you acting like this? I know I messed up, I know, and I’m so sorry, but I’m trying to do better and I never meant to hurt you and – please Papy, brother, sorry, Papyrus, can we please just talk? I promise I’ll do better. Please just tell me.”

“What the fuck er ya talkin’ ‘bout? Think I’m gonna believe this sugar sweet bullshit jus’ so you c’n fuck us over again next time ya feel like it? I ain’t some stupid kid no more.”

“I – what? What are you talking about?”

“Like you don’ know? Dunno what the fuck ya did ta me but ya made a mistake gettin’ this close when I’m too fucked up ta give a shit.” The threat should seem ludicrous, except for the ever-tightening grip that’s going to break his arm if it doesn’t stop and the death grinning at him from his brother’s face.

“I didn’t do anything. I mean, I did, but it was an accident, and we’re trying to make it better! Remember, we were working on better communication, and I need to respect that you can make your own decisions, and I know I’m bad at it but I promise I’m trying!”

“Yer – What the fuck er ya talkin’ ‘bout? Respectin’… only ‘respect’ you give a shit about is ever’one ‘respectin'’ every fuckin’ order ya give like yer Asgore an’ th’ Angel all rolled up in one.”

“What?” Blackberry smacks his frontal bone when he realizes. “I’m so stupid. You’re talking to Muffet.”

“Talkin’ ‘bout yerself in the third person, now, bitch? Think ya might be startin’ ta lose it. What little ya had ‘a it in the first place.” Twist grimaces, and gasps, before forcing the grin back on his face.

“I’m not Muffet. I’m Sans.”

“No yer not. What sick game ya think yer playin’?” His next breath wavers, but he visibly forces himself to regain his composure. He’s obviously still hurting very badly, but he thinks he’s with Muffet so he doesn’t want to show it.

“I’m not playing a game. I’m Sans. Blackberry.”

“Uh huh. I might be stupid but I ain’t that dense. Dunno what ya did ta me but I’m takin’ ya with me.”

“You’re taking Muffet where?”

“Ta dust, I guess. Think that’s where I’m goin’, so I ain’t leavin’ ya with my bro.”

“I am your brother!” Twist’s claws tighten, and Blackberry feels something crack. “Papy, stop!”

“You ain’t my bro. Dunno why ya wanna keep up this bullshit ta the end, but it ain’t gonna matter soon, anyway.” If Blackberry hadn’t been watching Twist’s face so closely, he might have missed it, but he sees Twist’s eyelight shift towards something behind him, an instant before his broken socket flares and his grin pulls back in agony. Some instinctual understanding has Blackberry ducking out of the way, arm still trapped in Twist’s grip, as a fully formed bone attack slams through the place he was just sitting into the wall beside him.

Dropping to the floor as Twist’s hand spasms open, Blackberry stares at the hole in the wall from the attack that his brother almost sent through his skull. He continues to stare at it as Twist’s screams slowly register through the haze filling his skull. He should probably check on that. As soon his soul leaves his throat.

***

Twist screams as his magic rebels against the attack he just used on Muffet. He already knew whatever she’d done to him had messed his magic up, but not this much. It’s burning him. It’s tearing him apart and it won’t stop.

He has to fight through it. There’s no other choice. She won’t forgive him for fighting back so if he missed, they’re both dead. He has to fight. He can’t fight. Everything hurts.

Someone stands up beside him. Shit, no, no, no, he missed. He missed! Or he just didn’t do enough damage, because of course he didn’t. Did he really think he could take her out with one hit? Of course he can’t. But everything hurts so fucking much and he just couldn’t think. Now he’s going to pay. It hurts so much and she’s still going to make him pay.

“Papy?” Why does she keep calling him that? What fucking sick game does she think she’s playing by pretending to be his little brother? It’s almost enough to help him form another attack, but his magic burns and his soul is melting and whatever she did isn’t leaving him enough magic to try again. Instead he just snarls pathetically.

“Papy, please. It’s Sans. I swear I’m Sans. I’m not Muffet. I promise I’m not!” Something drips on his hand when he reaches out to grab her. Why is she dripping on him? Is she melting like he is? Maybe they’ll both melt to dust after all.

She steps back before he can get her. Shit. There goes his one chance. Like he had a chance in the first place? Whole thing was stupid, driven by this fucking incomprehensible pain in his soul.

“Brother!” Stop that, you disgusting bitch! “Brother, please just look at me. I’m Sans.” A hand moves towards him, almost within grabbing distance. “See, my hand is made of bone.” It’s not. Is it? His vision swims.

Muffet runs a hand over her face. “Look, my skull is bone, too. It’s hard and white, and at the right angle you can see inside it.” No it isn’t! But it isn’t black, and there are only two eyes. What happened to her eyes? Fuck, everything hurts. Don’t scream, even if the effort makes him pass out. Never give the spider bitch the satisfaction. Even if she doesn’t look like a spider.

“I’d let you touch it to feel, but I’m pretty sure you'd hurt me right now and I think you'd be even less happy about that than I would be, so I’m just going to stay here and keep talking to you until you understand that it’s me.” What’s she talking about in that fake soothing voice? Who else would she be? Is he supposed to believe that _Sans_ is responsible for this agony? It’s obviously her.

“Not Sans.” Muffet might not be Muffet, but she’s obviously not Sans, because Sans would never hurt him.

“I am Sans. Look, Papy, you’re hurt very badly right now, and it’s making you very confused, so please just listen to me.”

“Not Sans. Sans never hurt nobody.” He doesn’t know anything else, including why he’s dying, but he knows that.

“Oh, Papy,” she sobs. What the fuck? More drops fall from her face. Drops of what? She can’t be crying. She couldn’t if she wanted to, and she’s never cared about anything enough to cry. How is she crying? Can he please join in? He wants to cry, too.

“Why… how…?” He tries to ask something about it, but loses the thought when a wave of /love/comfort/compassion/protection/ washes over him. It only lasts a moment before whoever it is screams and falls out of sight, but it’s enough to prove that it could never ever ever be her.

“Bro?” He whimpers.

“I’m here, Papy,” a shaky voice responds from the floor.

“‘s that you?” It has to be, because no one else would send him that.

“It’s me, brother.” Blackberry’s voice is stronger as he pulls himself back up. Twist’s vision still swims as fire pulses through his soul, but that’s his little brother and he knows it.

“y’okay?” Both of Blackberry's hands are clutching his ribcage over his soul, so he doesn’t seem to be okay.

“I’m alright. Just a little kickback, but I knew to expect it this time.” Kickback? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. It’s the projection thing again, and Twist sent his own back.

“Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault. I’m just so glad you recognize me now.”

“Yeah.” He was so sure his brother was Muffet. He even justified it. He’s losing his mind. He even thought… wait.

“Bro.” A flare of pain whites out his mind for a moment, but when he comes back, Blackberry is still waiting expectantly for him to continue. “Did I attack you?”

“Well…”

“Yes er no. Can’t think enough fer anythin’ else.”

“Well, yes, but you didn’t know it was me, and you missed, so I’m fine.”

“Shit.” He wants to say more, desperately needs to say more, but the pain is building back up again and in a moment he can’t do anything but scream.

***

They don’t get the chance to discuss Twist’s accidental attack, because the pain does not back off again. Blackberry helps as much as he can, providing constant fresh towels and water whenever Twist can manage to drink it. Mostly, though, they wait. At least, Blackberry waits. It’s unclear whether Twist even knows there's anything to wait for.

At some point, which is probably late afternoon, but Blackberry’s vision is swimming as much as Twist's so it’s too much effort to check the clock, Blackberry forgets how quickly Twist can still move and holds his soul within reaching distance after injecting fresh magic. He realizes his mistake as Twist’s claws close around the fragile soul in his hand. By the time Twist’s soul is safely back in his ribcage, it’s as scratched up as his bones. It needs healed. Twist needs healed so badly, but Blackberry most certainly must not ever do that. It’s obviously the worst thing he could possibly do, but by the third time he finds himself reminding himself of that, he begins to worry that he’ll forget.

It’s getting harder and harder to remember what he should be doing. Twist’s screaming is a constant background noise, only changing as his voice gets hoarser. Sometimes Blackberry suspects that Twist is seeing something that isn’t there, but it’s hard to tell past the constant, unrelenting agony.

By sunset, there is no more danger of Twist damaging his soul. He hasn’t moved for over an hour and rarely reacts to anything Blackberry does. He doesn’t even scream anymore, just whimpers, although his expression suggests that the pain is as bad as ever. Blackberry mechanically continues replacing the towels, but gives up on getting Twist to drink after the fourth time the water just trickles out of his mouth.

Maybe he’s dying. Iggy said he wouldn’t die, but maybe she lied. He looks like he’s dying. All because of this stupid treatment that wasn’t even ready for someone like Twist to try. Blackberry strokes a hand across his brother’s skull. Does Twist even know he’s here anymore? Is he going to die in agony, thinking he’s alone? Iggy said he wouldn’t, but Iggy doesn’t even care. No one cares but Blackberry, and Blackberry can’t do anything.

Twist whimpers again, skull weakly shifting. His sockets remain open, but they haven’t seen anything in a long time. It would almost be worth it to connect their souls again, just to see if Twist is even in there anymore. But what if he isn’t? What if this is finally what broke him? Blackberry shakes his head, trying to force his mind away from such morbid thoughts. Nothing has ever broken Twist, and some things probably should have. Twist is strong. He’s just hurt and tired. Maybe too hurt and tired? But he’s going to be fine. It will end and Blackberry will be ready to help. He can’t afford to check how Twist is feeling because he has to be ready to help.

Twist whimpers again, tears beading in the corners of his sockets. When was the last time Blackberry saw his big brother cry? It has to have been when they were kids, and he probably tried to hide it even then. Wait. It literally _has_ to have been when they were kids, because they weren’t adults long before Twist had too much LV to be able to cry. Does that mean…? Could this all be because the LV is dissolving? The actual LV itself? Could it be? He checks Twist.

It isn’t dissolving. Most stats are fluctuating, and the HP is getting a little low, but the LV is still exactly the same. Of course it is. Iggy didn’t say anything about this maybe meaning the treatment was finished. How completely naive to imagine this horrible day could have anything to do with anything good. The monitor blares again, so Blackberry gives Twist his next injection through the tears streaming from his own sockets. A few more tears drip from Twist’s sockets as the magic integrates, but then the tears dry up and don’t return.

As the room darkens, Blackberry considers that he might be getting tired. With Twist quiet, though by no means well, the adrenaline from earlier is fading. His headache returns, and with it comes a disorienting dizziness. At least Twist isn’t moving anymore, because it would be really hard to deal with when he's dizzy. He immediately regrets that thought with all of his soul.

Sometime during the night, he realizes that he hasn’t heard the monitor for awhile. He’s not sure, but he thinks it’s also been awhile since he changed the towels on Twist’s ribs. Nudging one aside, he puts a hand up against Twist’s sternum and finds that it’s quite cool.

He smiles. At least Twist isn’t so hot anymore. Hey, shouldn’t he be hot? He doesn’t just cool off in the middle of an attack. The last time Blackberry checked, though he doesn’t remember how long ago that was, his ribs were so hot that he began to wonder what happens to a monster whose ribs burn to dust. Now they’re cooler than Blackberry’s hand.

Maybe it’s over. Stars, could it be over? With no change in HP and ribs at a normal temperature, it might be. That thought trickles through his mind for awhile, before he decides that yes, it’s almost definitely over. So why isn’t he happy about it?

Maybe it’s because Twist hasn’t moved yet. In fact, Twist hasn’t given a single acknowledgment that anything has changed. He’s still unresponsive, still staring blankly into space, still occasionally shivering but doing nothing beyond that.

Maybe he's just too tired to move. Maybe he’s sleeping <strike>with his eyes open? Maybe he’s never going to wake up.</strike>

At some point it occurs to Blackberry that Twist might be cold. He removes the towels and covers Twist with a blanket. There. That’s better. Papy should be perfectly comfy. Now he should clean up the room. The towels are on the floor. They won’t be ready for the next attack. They have to be ready for the next attack.

Blackberry climbs off of the bed, where he must have sat down at some point. The room spins around him as he stands, so he leans against the bed for support. When it stops spinning, he bends down to pick up the towels. He really should stop throwing them on the floor.

On the way back up from the floor, the world spins even more. He catches himself against the nightstand, then leans against it for a moment. He feels… dizzy, maybe. Yes, definitely dizzy. The room is spinning. Maybe he should just... lie down for a minute? Just a minute. Papy will be ok for a minute. No, Papy’s not ok. Have to help Papy be ok. He steps away from the nightstand. Papy needs cold towels. But the room is spinning, and his ears are ringing, and he’s just… so… tired…

He stumbles, and then a sharp pain in his skull sends the world into darkness.


	24. Chapter 24

Twist is in hell. Twist is… not? Twist is blank.

…

…

…

...

...

Twist notices something. What… No! Do not.

Stay gone.

…

…

...

Something is wrong.

…

...

What’s wrong?

Can’t think.

…

Try.

No! It’s so bad. Don’t think.

…

Something is wrong.

…

What’s wrong?

Can’t think. Don’t want to.

…

Sans! Something…

Don’t know.

Can’t think.

…

Something is wrong with Sans!

What’s wrong? Can’t think! What’s wrong with Sans?!

Sans fell.

What? Shit!

Shaking his head, Twist forces himself back into the world.

Something is wrong with Sans. Sans fell. Twist saw it happen. He didn’t understand it, but Sans definitely fell. Where is Sans?

“Bro?” Like he’s going to hear that. Twist’s voice is shot. He tries calling louder. “Bro!” Fuck that hurts, and it starts a coughing fit. Twist maybe blacks out for a minute, but when the world comes back to him, Sans is still gone.

There’s no way he didn’t hear all that. Something is wrong. Where is he?

Wait, he fell! Didn’t he? Don’t know. Can’t think. Stay gone.

No! Fuck no. Stay here.

Sans, _Blackberry_, fell, and something crashed, and he didn’t get back up.

Something is wrong. Obviously. That’s pretty well established by now. Maybe figure out _what’s_ wrong?

Blackberry fell. Already knew that. What happened after that?

Nothing. Just static where the pain was. Static before and static after. But Blackberry fell.

Yes, genius, he fell and something’s wrong. Both of those things are well-established. Move the fuck on. What happened next?

He needs more information. What happened after Blackberry fell? Fucking static, he knows, but what happened outside of the non-functional wreck his mind and body melted into?

Blackberry fell. _And…?_ What happened next? Did he get up? Is he passed out on the floor while Twist tries to get his stupid skull working again? Twist never saw him get up, but Twist isn’t even sure he saw him fall, so Twist isn’t a reliable source of information.

What. Happened? “Bro?” He means to yell, but even the harsh whisper that comes out scrapes like sandpaper across the raw magic of his throat. Yelling is not going to happen. It doesn't help anyway. No one answers.

Blackberry fell. He probably didn’t get up. That means he’s probably on the floor. Twist needs to check the floor.

Twist can’t see the floor. If he turns his skull as far as it will go, he can see the corner of the nightstand peeking over the edge of the pillow, but nothing below that. Very helpful. It’s also dirty. Blackberry wouldn’t like that stuff all over the corner. What is it? The static from the blankness hasn’t left his vision or his skull. He can't really see and it’s too hard to think.

Something keeps drawing him to the stuff on the nightstand. What is it? It doesn’t look right. Some kind of liquid, maybe? Some kind of… oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. It’s blood. Sans fell and something crashed and now there’s blood on the nightstand. Pulling from strength he didn’t know he had, Twist rolls himself over to look down at the floor.

Blackberry is on the floor. Blackberry is on the floor with blood all over his face and he isn’t moving.

“Bro!” The yell sends him into another coughing fit, but he manages to stay conscious this time. Blackberry’s sockets remain closed.

“Bro…” Twist whimpers. What can he do? His little brother is passed out on the floor and his fucking useless, broken body is still throwing a fit about rolling over in bed. It's not going to let him get up.

Fuck this useless body. It’s not keeping him away from his brother. Ignoring the protest in every joint, he gathers his strength to scoot far enough down the bed to avoid crashing into the nightstand. The effort is exhausting, so he has to rest for awhile, but the sight of his brother soon spurs him into further action. He has to get down there.

About to fling himself over the side of the bed, Twist pauses as a tiny spark of rational thought trickles through the panic and thinning static. He won’t be much use if he knocks himself out. Maybe he should at least get some padding down there before letting gravity slam him into the floor. Great. Brilliant. Now hurry up.

He starts with the blanket that's tangled around his legs. That one doesn’t take too much effort, just a little squirming. He tosses it over the side. Reaching for the pillows takes quite a bit more maneuvering, but once he has them they’re easy to push to the floor. More would be great, but the blankets underneath him are just impossible and he needs to be down there right _now_. Bracing himself, he rolls off the side, knowing there's nothing else he can do about how he's going to land.

FUCK.

Several eternities after hitting the floor, the pain fades enough to let him think. He’s landed right next to Blackberry. That's a lot better than landing on top of Blackberry, which he almost did. Probably should have thought about that before free-falling off the bed. Either way, he’s here, and he didn’t land on anyone. Now what, exactly, does he think he can do to help? Maybe he should have thought about that one before falling off the bed, too.

The blood looks even worse from this close up. It’s definitely flowing from a crack above Blackberry’s brow bone, but the size of the crack is impossible to tell with such blurry vision. The fact that it’s still bleeding can’t be a good sign. Clearly something needs to be done about it, but Twist doesn't have a lot of options to work with.

Why wouldn’t Blackberry just call for help? Fuck privacy. Fuck why ever he's so scared of the best friends they’ve ever had. They’re other versions of themselves, for stars sakes! Surely at least a couple of them could have babysat Twist while Blackberry took a nap. Twist wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of anyone seeing his nightmares, either, but it would be worth it to get Blackberry some damn help. Instead the only two people in the world who have any idea that anything is wrong are stuck on the floor, one unconscious and the other about to be as soon as the next thing goes wrong. And then what happens? Blackberry just keeps bleeding and Twist just keeps watching him until his own HP drops, and then sometime next week someone finally comes to check on them and finds two piles of dust?

Fuck! Just FUCK! Twist slams his fist into the floor, then does it again when the joints scream at him because fuck this fucking useless body that won’t let him do anything! Why did he get down on the floor, anyway? That was a stupid idea. It’s not like he can do anything down here. All he did was do himself more damage. At least on the bed, he might have been able to – to do what, exactly? At least down here they can both dust together. Seems like that's about all he can offer.

No. Fuck that. What’s wrong with him? No one’s going to dust over a little skull crack. No one’s going to dust at all. That’s just stupid. Twist won’t let it happen.

Like he can do anything about it? It's not like he can go get help. This is where he’s staying until someone comes along to pick him up. Maybe he can crawl to the door, fall down the stairs, survive the fall, crawl to the front door, get it open, crawl out onto the porch, and hope someone notices him when they walk by? Even he’s not stupid enough to think that will work. Meanwhile, Blackberry just keeps bleeding.

Why is Blackberry still bleeding?! He’s going to bleed out! He'll crumble under Twist's hands just like every other monster that ever made the mistake of getting too close because Twist can't have soft things can't be gentle can't <strike>don't try to pretend you're better than me, dearie. I can always count on you to break my toys when I'm done with them, can't I? Ahuhuhuhu</strike> nononononononononono not Blackberry won't do it won't do anything at all for her she's gone she can't make him she can't get them that's not even what's happening. Blackberry just cracked his skull and it's not even that bad but it's bleeding and it won't stop until he's dust. _Sans is going to dust!_

No, he’s not. Calm down. Think. Twist can think sometimes, even if he isn’t great at it. So think. Now, sure, skull cracks can look worse than they are because they bleed so much, but that’s still a lot of blood, and if he hasn’t woken up yet from that kind of injury, he probably isn’t going to any time soon. He probably isn’t about to dust any minute, the crack just isn't that big, but he needs healed, or at least some bandages. Bandages are in short supply on the bedroom floor, and the thought of healing just makes Twist shudder. He can’t do it.

Exhaustion dragging him down along with the lingering static <strike>shoving the helplessness and terror as deep down as they’ll go</strike>, Twist shuts his sockets and breathes deeply. He needs a plan. He doesn’t have a plan. He’s terrible at plans. His best plan so far has been to fall out of bed. It didn't help. How is he going to get a plan?

The other skeletons are all so much smarter than him. Any of them could think their way out of this in no time. None of them are here, though, except the one bleeding all over the floor. The only one available to do any thinking here is Twist. So basically, they’re both fucked.

He’s got to do something, even if it's stupid. He can’t just lie around while his brother bleeds. Maybe the blanket can work as a bandage? If he can get it out from under him, that is. There’s no way he’s tearing strips off of it. Not out of any sentimental value, or anything like that; his hands just won't work well enough. It wouldn't matter that he sucks at planning if his body would just work the way it's supposed to, but it won't.

Fine, then. Step one is to get off of the blanket. That's something like a plan. It's manageable with enough squirming, but he has to roll backwards to avoid running into Blackberry, which puts his skull and one shoulder under the bed. Of course it does. Silly him for thinking he might manage to move slightly to the side without getting into trouble.

It’s very tight and dark under the bed. His first attempt to get out just slams his skull into the bedframe. Of course it does. Fuck, this place is small. Shit. He’s so sick of this fucking box, can’t ever get out, can’t – No. Stop that. It’s not a box; it’s his bed. It’s not even that dark. There’s not much room to move, but that’s because there’s a mattress over his skull, not a lid. He's stuck under a mattress. It's ridiculous, but not terrifying.

As he fumbles to push himself out, his hand bumps something small and hard. The angle is wrong to see it, but he manages to push it out into the open before getting himself out of that horrible _not-a-box_, shit, get it together. This is no time to freak out over his own bed. After calming the rattling that keeps starting without his permission, he takes a look at the object from under the bed. The hard, flat object with a little button on the bottom. He stares at in incomprehension for a moment. Then his sockets widen.

_No_. It can't be. He can’t be this lucky. That's just not how things work. No way is it what he thinks it is. He can’t see it very well, but the outline and the feel of it are unmistakable. It’s a phone.

Oh thank the stars, it’s a phone! He’s holding a phone. Resting the phone on his ribcage when his hands start to tremble, he finds the little button at the bottom more by feel than by sight and turns it on. He’s got a phone! No idea where it came from, but he’s got a phone, and now he can call for help.

The first time he tries to use it, the phone slips from his shaky grasp, but it doesn’t fall far. In a moment he has it back in his hands, held in front of his face to call whoever comes up first in Blackberry’s contacts. It really doesn’t matter who it is. Anyone will do at this point. _Iggy_ would do at this point. Actually, she could probably help. Maybe he should call her? He shudders. On second thought, no. Blackberry is not going to be getting any medical care from Iggy. It’s fine for Twist, but Blackberry deserves better. Besides, he doesn't need a fight between those two.

Maybe call Cash? He wouldn’t need as much explanation as the others would. Blackberry won't like it, but he's welcome to complain about it when his face isn’t covered in blood. Great plan. Now to find Cash’s number.

Find it where, exactly? Staring at the blur that is the phone’s screen, Twist’s soul sinks. There's one very obvious problem. He isn’t going to be able to find Cash’s number. That would require being able to see what's on the screen. All he sees are blurs of color.

No, no, no! His vision shouldn't be this bad! He should at least be able to tell the apps apart! He could see the uno cards just fine yesterday! But that was before the treatment spent all day frying his soul and mana lines and everything else. Now all he sees are vague blobs of color, and he doesn't know Blackberry's phone well enough to guess which ones he needs. Blindly pressing likely areas of the screen results in a few color changes that suggests he may have opened a few apps, but which apps they are and how to use them to contact anyone is beyond him. They’re both absolutely fucked.

Feeling his claws digging into the phone, he tosses it aside before he can break it. No point in holding on to something that he can’t even use. Blackberry will definitely want his phone back when he wakes up. He _will_ wake up and is not actually bleeding out on the floor, however much it looks like it. Twist's sockets narrow. Blackberry _will_ wake up, and then he _will_ call for help. No more excuses. No more bullshit about untrustworthy friends or protecting taleverse sensibilities. All that got them was the ridiculous <strike>terrifying</strike> situation they’re in now.

The phone having proven useless, Twist gathers up the blanket that started all the phone bullshit and presses it against Blackberry’s skull. It’s less effective than he’d like, probably because he doesn’t have the strength to actually press it against the crack. It’s really more like laying a blanket on his brother's skull than any kind of medical care. Not helpful.

Nothing is helpful. Twist is wasting all the strength he has trying to hold a blanket in place while Blackberry just keeps bleeding. But what else can he do? Blackberry needs healed, and Twist certainly can’t do that. That's really what it comes down to. Blackberry needs healed.

Twist wipes away the blood with the useless blanket to get a better look at the crack. It really isn’t that big, for all the blood. It probably would have stopped bleeding by now if Blackberry had just bothered to take a break and rebuild all the energy he kept using to take care of Twist. It would still probably heal without a scar if there was just someone around to heal it. Anyone could do it if their magic wasn’t as fucked up as Twist’s is, but Twist’s is fucked up and he can’t use it for anything.

Is that actually true, though? Didn’t he use magic earlier? Digging through confused, terrified, agonized recollections of whatever happened earlier threatens to send him falling back into static, but out of the mass of horror and exhaustion that shorted out his mind comes the image of one perfectly formed bone attack. He used it on Muffet. No, he used it on _Blackberry_, which is a horror all its own, but the point is that he used it. And it worked, didn’t it? A glance at the wall above him confirms that it definitely worked. Bone attacks aren’t really meant to demolish sheet rock, but clearly he was pissed.

The point is, when he wanted to kill Muffet badly enough, his magic cooperated. Maybe the same thing could happen with healing? He has a lot more practice fighting than healing, and it’s no mystery which one the LV would help along, but maybe it could still work. He sure wants to heal Blackberry at least as much as he ever wanted to kill Muffet. Maybe it could work. But what if he's wrong?

Healing affected his magic much differently than fighting. The bone attack hurt, but it happened and then it was done. That's manageable. When Blackberry healed him, his whole magical system lit up and refused to calm down again. That's not manageable. Why was being healed so much worse than using magic? How much will his magic freak out if he tries to heal Blackberry? If it’s like Blackberry healing him, he probably won’t be able to do anything before his magic sends him out of commission and on his way to dusting. If it’s like the bone attack, he can do it, and it won’t matter if it knocks him out because Blackberry will be healed and able to take care of them both.

Twist has never had any illusions that he's smart enough to actually understand magic. He's not going to figure it out now. There’s no way he’s going to be able to analyze the situation and logically come to the best decision, either. He just doesn't think like that. <strike>I don't keep you around to think, dearie.</strike> Fuck _off. _He's busy. He’s got plenty of friends who could figure it out, but they aren’t here, so all he has is his own empty skull and its twisted logic. Other people make the plans, Twist just throws himself into his best idea and bulls his way through it with strength and determination. Now he’s got no strength to work with, and determination isn’t getting him anywhere, so what can he do?

What would a smarter monster do? He knows enough of them. Some of them are technically him. Maybe they’d lay out the facts and find the pattern and come up with some great plan. Of course, they wouldn’t have gotten themselves into this shit show to begin with, so who does he think he is, trying to think things through like they would? But what else is he going to do?

Okay. Think. Two things happened. The bone attack hurt, but he got over it. Healing hurt and never stopped. Why were they different? Attacking versus healing? Something the LV likes versus something it has no interest in? Does LV actually have opinions about things? Surely not. Right? Would it really have been so hard for someone to explain how it all works? Maybe then he could figure it out. Probably not, though. Thinking isn't his strong suit. Probably Iggy did explain how the treatment worked, and it went right over Twist’s head.

Fine. It’s fine. He’ll figure it out a different way. Maybe something about how he used his magic? How he was feeling, maybe? Has his magic worked any other times? Maybe? Probably? It’s hard to tell what actually happened. This is impossible.

Blood drips onto the hand holding the towel against Blackberry’s skull. There isn't really time to argue with himself. It's pointless. He’s not getting anywhere. The fact is that Blackberry is still bleeding and isn’t waking up, and Twist has no way to get help. For a crack that small not to have stopped bleeding by now, something has to be wrong. How much HP does Blackberry even have left? He’s worn himself out, refused to take the time to eat, and poured endless caffeine down his throat. On top of that, at least some of the damage Twist remembers doing has to be real. It’s really too hard to check him with Twist’s own soul so damaged, but his HP has to be low.

Fuck it. He's not going to find a good answer. Blackberry won't stop bleeding. He has to stop bleeding. Twist will make him stop bleeding.

Pulling together whatever faint wisps of magic he can find flowing through his own mana lines, Twist holds his hand over the crack. The small part of his mind where his little-used common sense resides screams at him to stop, but the rest of him is well-practiced at ignoring it. Sending the collected magic across the gap between hand and skull almost makes him flinch back, but the feel of blood under his phalanges drives him forward. The worst that will happen is his magic electrocutes him. It’s worth it to make his brother stop bleeding.

Healing should be controlled and gentle. Twist can’t manage anything like that. This is more like throwing his magic into his brother’s. It sparks at first contact, causing a flinch on both sides, but if he’s going to make his magic electrocute him then he’s damn well going to heal his brother first. He pushes more magic through, ignoring how his hand jumps as sparks race up from the place where their magics meet. The sparks haven't left his hand, so it's fine. He takes a shaky breath. It's fine. It will be fine.

The sparks continue, making his hand tremble, but they don’t follow the mana lines back through the rest of his magic. It’s manageable. Even better, it might possibly be working! Past the sparking blur where gold magic meets blue, the edges of the crack slowly, slowly close in.

Oh stars, it’s going to work! Twist pushes more magic across the gap, ignoring the way his hand stops feeling like a hand and sparks crackle across the joints. His hand won't stay put, so he brings the other hand up to hold it in place. It hurts, but it's working! The occasional spark shoots up his arm to pulse in his soul, his mana lines turn dry and shriveled, his soul burns as magic is ripped from the depths of it, but it's working. That little bit of common sense grows louder and louder as fragile magical systems are thrown further off balance, screaming about what happened the last time he felt like this, but it can’t drown out the sight of the slowing blood flow from Blackberry’s skull. Blackberry is going to be okay. Twist just has to keep going.

Twist would keep going forever if Blackberry needed him to. He’d give anything for his brother to be alright. A little pain and discomfort means nothing. His body, however, has other ideas. Darkening vision and spasming hands make it harder and harder to keep directing the magic where it needs to go. Empty mana lines scream as magic is dragged through them from places that can’t afford to lose it and dark blue magic flows in to fill the void. Sparks that have made their way to his soul threaten to spread into a cascade that would take over his body and not stop until he's dust. He has to stop. But the crack isn’t closed! He has to keep going. Blackberry needs him. He can’t leave. His mind swims and his bones rattle, but still he forces what pitiful wisps of magic his body can produce into the healing crack. Blue and gold blur, with more blue than gold as his body runs out of magic to send. Finally, a wisp of blue near a mana line sends a cascade of sparks up his arm into his soul and skull, knocking him out.

***

When Twist wakes, nothing works. Everything hurts. He's exhausted. His hands remain outstretched towards Blackberry, but no magic flows through them. The position strains his shoulders, so with considerable effort he pulls them back towards himself. Then he looks at what he's done.

Blackberry’s skull looks better than it did. The crack is still open, still bleeding sluggishly, but if it weren’t for the color contrasts it would be too small to register through Twist’s blurry vision. It's definitely better. Maybe he'll be okay?

“Bro?” It’s about all he can manage to say. Usually his voice gets better after it rests for awhile, even if the water is out of reach, but it isn't getting better. Maybe he was screaming again and didn’t realize it? He might have been. It hurt enough. Still does, but that doesn’t matter. “Bro? C’mon.”

Blackberry doesn’t budge.

“Bro?” Twist whimpers. He knows he’s whimpering and he doesn’t care. Blackberry won't wake up. It didn’t work. Twist put everything he had into that tiny bit of healing, and Blackberry still won’t wake up. At least he didn’t hurt himself too badly, for all the good it does them. He flexes the hand that took most of the damage. It moves, but not very well. Then again, the rest of him doesn’t move very well, either.

“‘s okay.” It’s just a little damage. Probably burnt out some mana lines. They’ll come back. Or they won’t. It doesn’t really matter, because Blackberry won't wake up and they’re still stuck on the floor. “Sorry, bro,” Twist sighs.

Blackberry looks very small on the floor with blood drying on his skull. He's always been so little. It must have been weird for the older Sanses when their little brothers got bigger than them. Twist’s little brother always stayed little. So little and innocent. Twist was supposed to protect him, but he’s really bad at it. Shouldn’t have ever let Blackberry get involved in this. It just upset him and made him make a bunch of bad decisions. Twist is supposed to be the one making bad decisions, not Blackberry. Not that he didn’t make his fair share. He always does. He just usually does a better job of keeping them away from his little brother.

Blackberry always tries so hard. He just wants to save Twist. He thinks it’s his job to save Twist, when it’s really the other way around. Twist never can convince him of that. Looks like in the end neither of them can save anyone.

It’s a bad idea to let his thoughts spiral like this. Twist knows better. Usually that’s a good time to start some kind of nonsense or find someone to fuck or go bug Cash or make his brother laugh. None of those are available right now, and Blackberry won't wake up.

Why won't he wake up? It was just a little crack. It shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s mostly healed now. But it wasn’t that bad in the first place and it just kept bleeding and Blackberry wouldn’t wake up. Still won’t wake up.

Now Twist is tired. He shouldn’t sleep. He should do something. Anything is worth trying if it might help.

There's nothing to try. He’s out of ideas.

Maybe he should sleep. Maybe another idea will come to him when he’s less tired. Maybe Blackberry will wake up. Maybe.

Blackberry is so tiny, curled up next to him on the floor. It’s just like when they were both tiny little babybones, hiding somewhere together and pretending they were safe. They weren't safe, but they could pretend. They're good at pretending.

Twist couldn’t protect his baby brother back then, either. Not really. He thought he'd found a way, once, but it just made things infinitely worse. Now he’s helpless again. All that power and he’s made himself helpless. All because he was afraid of a little LV. He just wanted it gone and now he's made it other people's problem. Why couldn't they just leave him to deal with it by himself? Because they're too good for that, of course. Twist doesn't deserve them.

Stars, he loves his little brother. Maybe they have their problems, but he loves his little brother more than anything in the world. Maybe they should just take a nap together, just like when they were little.

It’s hard to cover the foot or two of space between them. Nothing in his body works very well at all, but slowly, Twist manages to get within hugging distance. Then he lays an arm across Blackberry’s body and hugs him close. He tries to imagine they’re just little kids napping together in a safe hiding place they never really had. No LV, no Muffet, just the two of them safely huddled together. It's nice. Safe. Comfy.

Losing the battle against exhaustion, Twist joins his brother in sleep.

***

A sound startles Twist awake. His eyelight darts around the room but sees nothing out of place. What was that sound? It was weird. Then it happens again, chiming in a familiar pattern.

It’s the doorbell. It’s annoying. Don’t they know monsters are trying to sleep in here? No consideration.

The light from the window is blinding as he blinks the sleepiness from his sockets. Huh. Must be morning.

The doorbell rings again. What do they want? Nobody in this house has any interest in talking to some fucking door-to-door salesman. Blackberry would at least be polite, but Twist just wants them to fuck off, especially after the night they just had. Day. Week. Whatever. Oh shit, Blackberry!

He looks down at the skeleton underneath his arm. He’s not dust, of course he isn't, but he hasn’t moved, so he probably hasn’t woken up. That’s really bad. Even with a concussion, he should have woken up by now. Twist’s healing job wasn’t _that_ bad.

What are they going to do? Sleeping was no help in coming up with any better ideas.

The doorbell rings again. “Fuck off,” he’d like to yell, but can barely hear his own voice. Whatever. They’ll go away eventually.

The doorbell rings yet again. “hey! anybody home?” a voice shouts. Rude. Maybe everyone in the house is asleep. Maybe they don’t want vacuums or sexy pizza deliveries or whatever salesmen sell in real life.

"Fuck. Off."

“hey! twisted? berry? anybody home?” That’s weird. Weird enough for a salesman to know who lives here, but calling them nicknames seems a just little bit too personal. Maybe it's a surface thing. "anybody in there?"

Wait. That voice is familiar. “Red?” Twist tries to yell, but his damn voice is still shot. “Red.” No luck. He's not getting above a stage whisper.

The doorbell rings again. After a few seconds, Red continues, “guess you guys are out somewhere. or maybe yer sleepin’. i’ll just go tell the creampuff he was worryin’ about nothin’. see ya.”

What? No! Nonono, Red can’t leave! “Red!” It feels like a yell, but still doesn’t sound like something that will carry to the front yard. Twist has to get down there. Pulling his arm back from Blackberry, he tries to sit up. It doesn’t work. Then he tries to crawl. He falls on his face less than six inches off the ground. “Shit!” Still not loud enough to carry outside, and Red is going to leave.

What can he do? He has to get Red’s attention somehow. It’s their only chance. What to do, what to do?! His gaze darts around the room, locking on the window. The window! The window isn’t that far from the front door. If he can just get to the window, he can get Red’s attention. Gathering his strength yet again, he starts to pull himself towards the window. He army crawls for maybe a foot before falling on his face again.

No! No no no fuck no! Their only chance for a rescue is about to teleport away! Maybe he already has. Please no. Just wait a little bit longer for Twist to get to the window. Please.

He can’t get to the window. Claws scrabbling against the floor get him nowhere. He does find the phone again, but it’s as useless as ever. If he could use it, it wouldn’t matter that Red is going to leave long before Twist can get to the window, but he can't. Even if he gets there, what does he think he’s going to do? He can’t stand up and knock on it. Maybe throw something at it?

Holy fucking stars. That's the answer. It's right in his hand, no crawling required. Some monsters would be reluctant to do what he’s about to do, but Twist has done a lot worse than this when circumstances required it. Blackberry will get over it.

Rolling over for a better angle, he draws his arm back for leverage and flings the phone as hard as he can against the window.

“what the fuck was that?!” comes a startled yelp from outside. Sweeter words have never been spoken. “did that come from inside the house?”

Yes yes yes, come check it out. Come in!

“what’s goin’ on in there?”

“'We’ve fallen and we can’t get up',” Twist mutters, mimicking the commercial. Maybe he and Blackberry need those little help buttons for old people. They’re clearly not doing well on their own.

“seriously, ya havin’ a party in here or somethin’?” Red’s voice is much clearer than moment ago. He’s in the house!

“Red.” Shit, that was supposed to be louder. It probably didn't even carry down the hallway. Surely Red will come upstairs if he’s bothered to come inside, though. Right? There’s no way he’ll just leave. Right?

“where are you guys? ya hidin’ for some reason?” Red's voice is even closer than before. He’s coming up the stairs! He must be. There are footsteps!

“this place is a mess.” A head peeks in the doorway. He's here!

Red’s sockets widen in shock.

Twist weakly waves. "Heya, Red."

Red blinks at him. “uh... what the _fuck_ happened ta you two?”


	25. Chapter 25

“uh… what the _fuck_ happened ta you two?” Red asks, eyelights darting between the two injured skeletons on the floor. Blackberry is unconscious with blood drying on his face and Twist looks beat to hell, bones crisscrossed with scrapes and scratches and covered in spent magic, soul manifested for some reason, which is easily visible because he’s wearing nothing but gym shorts. And of course there’s the fact that they’re both lying on the floor, and probably not by choice. But what does Red know? He was just trying to check on them to reassure Papyrus. He wasn’t even going to come inside before something slammed into the window, but apparently it’s good that he did.

“Long story,” Twist rasps, sockets closing in relief before fluttering back open to focus on Red. Well, as much as a skeleton can focus with his eyelight so hazy. The poor guy is clearly pretty messed up.

“i’ll bet. i’m guessing ya need a hand?”

“Yeah.” Twist’s gaze becomes distant, before he shakes his skull and refocuses. “We’re kinda… ‘sa really long story.” Asking questions almost seems mean with Twist so out of it, but Red kind of needs to know what he just walked in on.

“i got that. how ‘bout ya just gimme the highlights?”

“Sure.” Twist squints at him. “Uh… we’re stuck on the floor?” Well, it’s a start.

“yeah, i got that part. now maybe try tellin’ me _why_ yer both stuck on the floor. or maybe why ya both look like shit.”

Frowning, Twist shakes his head, then tries again. “Long story. I mean… shit. Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m kinda fucked up.”

“i can see that. maybe the story can wait. let’s start with what i can do ta help.”

“Yer gonna help?”

Red’s brow bones furrow. “yeah? ‘course i’m gonna help. what’d’ya think i’m gonna do, just leave ya both bleedin' all over the floor?” Twist seems… really off. Way less with it than he should be. Not like normal Twist bullshit, more like head injury level bullshit. It’s definitely possible with how beat up he looks. “ya know what? just tell me later. let’s get ya fixed up a little and back inta bed first. i’m assuming ya do wanna get back in bed? floor can’t be that comfortable.”

Twist nods. “Yeah, bed. That’d be better." He relaxes, then frowns. "Wait. No. Sans too. Get Sans in bed too.”

“i’m gonna go ahead and assume you mean yer bro, so sure, i’ll get him in bed too.” Doesn't seem like that needs clarification, but whatever. Twist is out of it.

Twist’s sockets widen in excitement, "Ya will?" At Red's nod, he lets them close in utter relief. “Thanks, darlin’. Thank you, thank you, thank you, kept tryin’ but he wouldn’t listen ‘n then he fell an’ hit his head an’ I was too fucked up ta help an’ I tried but it didn’ work so now I can’t…” a cough cuts off Twist’s rambling.

“let’s just get you guys taken care of before we try to figure out whatever it is yer talkin' about.” Maybe Twist will do better once some of the more immediate concerns are taken care of.

Any Papyrus is going to be more worried about his Sans than himself, so checking on Blackberry first seems like the path of least resistance. He’s also a lot easier to move than Twist. Using the already bloody blanket on the floor to wipe away the worst of the blood, Red examines the crack in Blackberry’s skull. It’s pretty small, especially compared to the amount of dried blood on his face and the blanket. He glances at Twist, impressed. “did you heal this?”

“Yeah. Tried.”

“not bad, especially considering the shape yer in.” There’s maybe a centimeter left to close, and the bone around it is smooth, not like something that’s going to scar.

“Tried. Didn’t work. Couldn’t keep… ‘s my magic. ‘s fucked up.”

“at some point ya gotta get around ta tellin’ me why yer so ‘fucked up’, but this really ain’t too bad. just gimme a second ta finish it up and he’ll be good ta go.” Twist nods, so Red calls up a little magic to finish the healing. He’s not an expert, but there isn’t really that much more to do. Twist is kind of underselling his work.

The crack heals like it was never there, minus the blood. “there, good as new.”

“Really?” Twist sounds like a little kid who just learned Giftmas has come early. Or maybe one who successfully hid from the EXP hunters. Aw, fuck. What’s been happening to these two?

“yeah, really. probly need ta get him checked out, just ta be safe, but the crack’s gone.”

“Thanks, darlin',” Twist whispers, so shakily that Red would swear he was on the verge of tears if he didn’t know better. All this over a little crack? It’s obviously been a really shitty morning. Or night. Or longer? Surely they were in better shape than this when Papyrus talked to Blackberry yesterday.

“how long’s this been goin’ on, anyway?”

“Dunno. Maybe… days? ‘cause I was at work, but she said she could fix it so then the lab? Dunno ‘cause Cash got me but he left. Then I was meltin’ ‘cept not really ‘cause obviously I didn’t 'cause I ain't dust, but Sans, no, yer a Sans too, _Blackberry_ hit his head.” Real informative. Great. Definitely leaning towards the head injury theory, although drugs or a shit-ton of alcohol are also possibilities.

“maybe slow down a little? didja say somethin’ about a lab?”

“Yeah, but…” Twist shakes his head again. “Sorry, sweetheart. Think I made more sense b’fore ya got here. Made sense ta me, at least.” Twist snorts, and Red manages a weak grin in response. Something is seriously wrong, here, but without Twist’s cooperation it’s going to be hard to figure out what it is. Anything bad enough to cause this much confusion should have made it hard for them to get themselves home, unless whatever it was happened here, which would match the crack in the wall. But why would someone just break in, attack them, and leave? Not like either of them are in any shape to fight someone off. Unless it took awhile to get this bad? Poison, maybe? Fighting someone with some kind of poison weapon? That could explain the weird behavior and the injuries. But what are the chances that Twist would risk fighting anyone, anyway? He’s way too careful about anything that might give him more EXP to go around getting in fights. Maybe whoever it was hurt Blackberry first, and then Twist lost it? But whatever knocked Blackberry out obviously happened after he talked to Papyrus. Papyrus was sure that Blackberry was hiding something, but surely he’s got more sense than to hide something like this from his own allies. Right? But then, half the time it seems like Red and Edge are the only ones with enough sense to share information with their own brothers, let alone other allies, so maybe that’s too big of an assumption.

“let’s just get you healed up a little, and then we can talk about it.”

“Okay. Wait.” Twist’s sockets widen in terror. “No!” What the fuck? “Not me! Don’ heal me!” The panicked yell starts a bad coughing fit, with coughs ripping from Twist’s throat as he curls in on himself, gasping for breath.

“geez! ok ok, i won’ heal ya. shit, that sounds bad. lemme get ya some water.” Red grabs the water bottle from the nightstand and sticks it in Twist’s mouth. “here ya go.” Twist clamps his teeth on the spout and gulps the water down desperately. His sockets close in bliss as the water runs down his throat.

“hey, slow down. don’t choke yerself." Red pulls the cup away to let Twist breathe, because at the rate he’s going he’s not going to stop until the water is gone. "when’s the last time ya had something ta drink?” 

After several gasping breaths, Twist responds. “Dunno. Been… awhile. More?”

“sure, here ya go. try not ta drink the whole thing at once this time.” Red holds the bottle as Twist finishes the rest at a more moderate pace, then sets it aside.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Think that mighta been part a’ the problem. Like I said, ‘s been a while an’ I ain’t been holdin’ up too well when anythin’ goes wrong.”

“i’ll bet. yer really in bad shape. sure ya don’t want me ta heal ya? i did just fine with the berry.”

Twist shakes his head frantically. “No… ’s… jus’ trust me, darlin’. Think it’d kill me.”

"huh?" Red’s not the best at healing, but he’s not _that_ bad at it. “how could healing kill ya?”

“‘s my magic. It’ll flip out if ya try. Too hard ta explain. Tell ya later. Jus’ don’ do it. Please.” Twist looks up, sockets pleading and fists clenched. What does he think Red’s going to do, force healing on him? Maybe if he was about to dust, but nothing looks life-threatening and he’s conscious and kind of coherent.

“i’ll take yer word for it. i won’t heal you if ya don’t want me to.”

Twist’s face crumples with relief. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you darlin’, thanks fer listenin’, promise I c’n explain soon as I c’n keep track ‘a what I’m talkin’ ‘bout an’ I’ll make more sense later, always do, jus’ kinda got my skull fried earlier an’ I’m tryna hold it t'gether but I’m so fuckin’ tired an’ nothin’s working an’ I jus’ can’t think so I know I don’ make no sense but I swear I’m tellin’ the truth so please don’–”

“twisted!” Red cuts off Twist’s babbling, suspecting it won’t ever end if he doesn’t. “i got it. no healing. i believe you. let’s just get you up off the floor, and maybe clean up a few of those cuts, and we’ll figure the rest out later.”

“Sans–” Twist shakes his head, growling at himself, “_Blackberry_ first.”

“no problem. and hey, don’t sweat the name thing. i know who yer talkin’ about.”

“ain’t ‘cause a’ you, sweetheart. ‘s just… ‘s better if I remember when an’ where we are.”

“havin’ trouble with that?” Is it better that he knows his skull isn’t working right, or is it even worse that he knows and is still this confused? How should Red know? He’s no doctor.

“Yeah.” Twist snorts. “Half the time I think I’m underground an’ can’t tell who I’m with.”

“geesh. how long’s that been going on?” Okay, the fact that he’s so calm about it has to be a bad sign. No one should be casually mentioning that they keep forgetting years of their life.

“Since it started, I guess, or maybe a little later? Dunno.” Right, that explains everything.

“what’s ‘it’?”

“Huh? Oh, the LV treatment.”

“the what?!”

“The LV treatment? S’posed ta get rid of my LV? Not that it’s done anythin’ yet, ‘cept make my life a livin’ hell, o’ course, but it’s s’posed ta be workin’ an’ I can’t do anythin’ about it anyway so I might as well let it.”

“there’s a treatment for lv? since when?” That seems like the kind of thing Edge would know about if it existed, and it's definitely important enough that he would share the information with Red.

Twist shrugs. “Beats me. I know she was workin’ on it fer awhile but she didn’t say how long, an’ honestly I didn’t ask too many questions b’fore I signed up, an’ don’ get on me ‘bout that bein’ stupid ‘cause I already know, and since it started I ain’t been in too good a shape fer askin’ questions so I don’ really know.” Someone working on something mysterious related to LV did something to Twist without Twist asking questions? Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all.

“twist?”

“Yeah?”

“don’t tell me you went and let some quack doctor do some kind of experiment on you because they said they could do something about your lv.”

“Nah.” Thank the stars. “She’s no quack. Can’t say much fer her bedside manner, but she knows what she’s doin’. I mean, she is a royal scientist.”

Oh, a royal scientist, sure. That makes it all better. He didn’t let some random quack doctor experiment on him, he let a royal scientist experiment on him. Probably a fellverse one, too, since she was investigating LV. Yep, that’s worlds better than some random quack doctor. If you don’t mind melting into sentient goo for the royal scientist to keep in a jar. Shaking his head, Red mutters, “twisted, I worry about you sometimes.”

“Huh? Why’s ‘at?”

“probly because yer askin' that question. now c’mon, let’s get you both in bed.”

“S-Blackberry first.”

“sure.”

Looking back and forth between the bed and the skeletons on the floor, Red decides pretty quickly that he’s not doing this by hand. It probably wouldn’t be too much effort to pick up Blackberry, despite his fondness for snacks, but why bother? One quick teleport later, Blackberry is safely settled in Twist’s bed. It might have been better to clean more of the blood off of his face first, but the bed’s a mess anyway, so who cares?

Seriously, the bed is a mess. Red eyes the tears in the mattress warily. “are those claw marks?”

“Yeah. Probly.”

“how’d that happen?”

Twist shrugs. “No clue.”

“was there some kinda fight in here?” Red’s gaze darts to the crack in the wall.

“Nah. Just me.”

Now Red eyes Twist warily. “there a reason yer destroyin’ yer room?”

“Probly. Toldja sweetheart, I keep thinkin’ I’m somewhere else. Fergettin’ things and seein’ things.”

“right.” Maybe alone with a hallucinating 17 LV monster isn’t exactly where Red needs to be right now, even if that monster is stuck on the floor and seems perfectly content talking about how he’s not sure why he destroyed his room. Actually, that doesn’t counteract Red's first point one single bit. But what’s he going to do, leave Twist the way he found him? He’s not going to leave a Papyrus hurt and confused on the floor. “i’m gonna move you to the bed now. that okay?”

Twist nods enthusiastically. At least he's in a good mood. For the moment.

“we’re gonna hafta teleport, ‘cause i’m not pickin’ you up.” Twist has never objected to teleporting, as far as Red knows, but most monsters do appreciate a little warning.

“Sounds good, darlin'. Wonder why Cash didn’t do that? I was kinda hard fer him ta pick up, too, an’ I wasn’t that good at cooperatin’.”

“cash was here?” Just how many people know about this bullshit experiment some scientist talked Twist into? If people know what happened, how did Twist end up stuck on the floor with no one around but an unconscious little brother? For that matter, how did Blackberry end up passed out on the floor, anyway?

“Yeah, he got me out of there. The lab, I mean.” So Cash definitely knows about the experiment. Why didn’t he tell anyone? Maybe Twist wanted to keep it a secret? He sure seems willing to talk about it now, though, even if he doesn’t make much sense.

“so Cash got you out of the lab and brought you home?”

“Yeah. He was nice. Took care of me an’ everythin’.” Twist smiles. This is getting uncomfortably sappy. Moving on.

“great. he’s not here now, so i’ll just go ahead and teleport ya inta bed.”

“Yeah.” Twist pauses, and his eyelight hazes. “Miss him.”

“i’m sure he’ll be thrilled ta hear it.” If he doesn’t get sick from all this sappy bullshit.

“Can’t tell him.”

“that’s yer business, then.” What does he want, relationship advice?

“Guess so.” Now Twist just sounds sad. Great. Just what Red needs, to deal with whatever passes for their love life. Not that he doesn’t wish them well with it, but he really doesn’t have anything useful to add.

“you’ll work it out.” And now Twist looks devastated. Fantastic. Great going, Red. This is why he should leave the comforting to literally anyone else.

“Can’t.”

“why not?” Honestly, Red should just let it drop. He’s not helping. Why are they even talking about this, anyway?

“Killed him.”

“what?!” Red teleports across the room before he can even process what Twist just said. No he did not. What the fuck. Twist did not kill Cash. Twist does not just go around killing people, except that he has 17 fucking LV so at some point he obviously did go around killing people, but even if he did, he wouldn’t kill Cash! Other people definitely would kill Cash, but Twist likes him for some reason, and also Twist doesn’t just randomly go around killing people! “what the fuck?!”

“Didn’t I? Think I did…” Twist wouldn’t kill Cash. Twist wouldn’t kill anyone, not even an asshole who really deserved it, because that would raise his LV… oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, that LV treatment thing. What exactly did it do? Twist must have thought it would help, but what if it made it worse, made him less stable, somehow? Oh fuck.

“twist? c’mon. you didn’t really kill cash. tell me you didn’t.” If he did, then what? What… what are they even going to do? “Please tell me you didn’t.”

Magic wells up in Twist’s broken socket, as he whispers, “I don’ know.”

“you don’ know? how can ya not know?” Holy fucking stars, if Twist is so far gone that he doesn’t even know whether he killed someone… But that doesn’t make sense. They wouldn’t be having this conversation if Twist had lost himself to his LV. Twist certainly wouldn’t be looking at Red like Red holds the answers to whether he’s just lost his whole world. “twist. what. happened.”

“I don’ know. Red… I… fuck. I dunno anythin’, sweetheart. Everythin’s… Can’t even tell the difference. She told me ta kill him, she was gonna… so I did, but how’d she even know about him? Or you, or Slim, or any of ya? Didn’t even know ya, back when I worked fer her, but that’d mean I don’ work fer her no more so why’s she still here?”

“who’s still here?” Not that any of that made much sense, but it seems like there are maybe some discrepancies in the story of Twist killing Cash? Hopefully? Not that Red knows what they are, but Twist seems to be finding them. Please, please don’t let it be true. They didn’t get to the surface just to start losing friends to some stupid LV that no one even needs anymore. Please.

“Y’know, Muffet.” That name sends a shiver of rage down Red’s spine, but he forces it down. Twist has to be talking about his own Muffet, not the one Red and Edge were unfortunate enough to know. Twist’s Muffet isn't sounding any better, though. Still, her coming into the story might be a good sign for Twist’s story breaking down. As far as Red knows, none of the skeletons are working for any Muffets anymore.

“no muffets around here that i can see.”

Twist frowns at him. “Really?”

“really. believe me, i’d let ya know if one was in the room.” Theoretically, there could have been a Muffet here earlier, during whatever did so much damage to the room, but that seems really unlikely. If nothing else, if their relationship was anything like Edge’s with their own Muffet, there should be a lot more damage. Actually, the room is missing one key piece of damage that could unravel the whole story.

“hey, twist? where’s his dust?” There might have been a smoother way to ask that, but this isn’t really the time for beating around the bush.

“Huh?”

“cash’s dust? you said ya killed him, but i don’t see any dust around, and this room ain’t that big.”

Twist sockets widen. “No dust?”

“none that i see.”

“D’ya think… maybe I didn’t kill him?”

“what do you think? you were there.”

“Yeah, but… I got no clue what’s goin’ on, most a’ the time. Been seein’ things all the time, an’ fergettin’ things, and… yer sure Muffet ain’t here?”

“i sure don’t see her. do you?” Whatever else is going on, it’s sounding more and more likely that Twist did not kill Cash, thank the fucking stars. It’s also pretty clear that Twist’s skull is just as fucked up as he said it was. Poor guy. Thinking his old boss made him kill his friends? That just sucks.

“Don’t see her now, but that don’ mean nothin’. Or, I mean, yeah, it probly does mean somethin’. Probly means yer right, an’ she ain’t here.” Twist digs his knuckles into his sockets. “Fuck. I know that. How’d I get on that in the first place?”

“beats me. i was gonna teleport you into bed and you started talking about cash, who’s definitely alive, by the way.” Red’s at least 97% sure of that, which is close enough that he’s not going to risk setting Twist off with the 3% chance that he's wrong.

“Yeah, I know that. Just some stupid dream I had. Keep thinkin’ they’re real. Yer gonna see me do some weird shit if ya stick around here fer long.”

“weird shit like whatever happened ta the wall?”

Twist looks up at the wall and winces. “Probly not quite like that. Don’t even know how I did that. Can’t usually even bring up a tongue without knockin’ myself out, let alone go around blowin’ up walls.”

Weird choice of an example, but whatever. Twist is weird. Wouldn’t have him any other way. “not gonna blow me up if i help ya get in bed, are ya?” Red sure wouldn’t try to touch Edge if _he_ was hallucinating Muffet and blowing up walls. It seems safest to assume the same applies to Twist.

“Nah. Don’ worry, darlin’. Really don’ think I could hurt a fly. I’m wearin’ myself out just talkin’ ta you, an’ my magic’s still too busy throwin’ a fit ta blow anythin’ up.”

“what do you mean, your magic is throwing a fit?”

“Ya know, just kinda burnin’ my joints up, makin’ my soul kinda melty, makin’ it hard ta see. No big deal, just makes it hard ta do anything.”

“sounds like kind of a big deal ta me.” Especially the melty soul part. Twist doesn’t sound worried, but Twist's level of worry doesn't seem to be lining up very well with the things he should be worried about.

“Nah, just normal stuff. Maybe a little worse after last night, but nothin’ too bad.”

“what happened last night?”

Twist winces. “Fuck if I know, sweetheart. Seemed like a normal node attack thing at first. Hate those, but I’m used ta them. Then it just kept goin’ fer… I dunno, hours, I guess. Think it started in the mornin’, and the next time I knew what was happenin’ it was night, but I dunno how much of that was the node thing an’ how much was my skull bein’ fried afterwards, but anyway when I woke up Blackberry had hit his head so I tried ta help him but there wasn’t that much I could do. ‘Parently healin’ him worked better than I thought it did, an’ I can’t tell ya how glad I am ‘bout that ‘cause it coulda gone really fuckin’ wrong, but then that was all I could do so I just waited an’ then you came but then ya almost left so I threw his phone ta get yer attention an’ then you came in ta save us so thanks, sweetheart. Yer the best.”

Red blinks. “uh… no problem.” There’s a lot to unpack there, a whole lot of things that could really use some clarification, but first, “what’s a ‘node attack thing’?”

“Jus’ the LV meltin’, I think. Not that it ever seems ta make any difference in how much LV I have, but Iggy swears it’s workin’, an’ she’s the best source of information I got.”

Iggy? That’s the twistfell Alphys, right? She must be the scientist doing the LV experiment. Red might have actually heard a mention of that, at some point, but it must not have seemed too promising because he didn’t pay much attention to it.

“wait. your lv is _melting?_”

“S’posed ta be," Twist grumbles. "Like I said, it don’ seem ta be goin’ anywhere. Just seems ta be meltin’ the rest a my soul, instead.”

And again, he seems a little too calm about it, for someone whose soul is melting. “do you think that might possibly be a problem?”

“Nah, ain’t gonna kill me, sweetheart. She was sure of that. Jus’ hurts, but I don’ care. I mean, I care, didn’t really enjoy fryin’ my skull yesterday an’ it’d be nice ta be able ta keep track of what’s goin’ on, but it’s worth it, ya know? Gonna get rid a all my LV.” That sounds like more than some kind of a treatment. It sounds like a cure. There’s no way someone has invented a cure for LV.

“get rid of it? like, it’ll all be gone? you sure?”

“Iggy’s sure. She’s done it with other monsters, jus’ not with as much LV as I have. Shit, sweetheart, even if it don’t get rid a all of it, even just a little would help.”

“guess it would.” Twist sure seems to think it’s legit. On the other hand, Twist was pretty sure he’d killed Cash earlier, and he only occasionally seems to realize that half of what he’s saying makes no sense, so he’s not the most reliable source of information.

“Look, darlin’, I’m really not thinkin’ straight." Apparently Twist agrees. "C’n ya just help me get in bed? I might make more sense after a nap. Or I might make less sense, but if I start ramblin’ nonsense just assume I ain’t talkin’ ta you an’ keep yer distance fer a while. I just need some sleep. Wouldja mind keepin’ an eye on us fer a while? My bro don’ want anyone ta see me like this, but honestly I don’ give a fuck anymore. All secrets ‘ve done is leave us both about ta dust on the floor. Sides, yer not gonna hurt us.”

Aww. That’s honestly one of the sweetest things one fellverse monster could say to another. “sure, twisted. i’ll look out for you guys. let’s get you in bed.”

“Wouldn’t mind stayin’ down here with a pillow, if it’s too much trouble. Seem ta end up down here often enough, anyway.”

“i’m not leaving you on the floor. now, ya good for bein’ touched so I can teleport you inta bed?” _Something_ set off the wall explosion, and Red didn’t make it this long by rushing into dangerous situations with volatile monsters. Not that Twist is acting violent, but his emotions are all over the place, and Red can’t forget those references to Muffet. Maybe it’s not the same as what Edge has let slip over the years, but maybe it's close enough, so it needs to be handled carefully.

“Yeah, think ‘m fine. If I start actin’ weird, just back off a minute. I’ll get over it.”

“yer sure?” With Twist’s stats versus Red’s, it wouldn’t take much for a mistake to end in disaster.

“I’m sure I’ll get over it, an’ I’m sure I can’t move much. Look, I kinda remember the wall thing. Wasn’t thinkin’ too clearly, but I remember it took a lotta time an’ effort ta get one attack t’gether, an’ I _don’ _think I c’n do it again. Not really sure how I’m even keepin’ my bones t’gether, my magic’s so fried. Hey, actually, how’s my HP?”

“you don’t know?”

“All my stats could be 1, fer all I know. Toldja, my magic’s fucked up, an’ my soul’s the worst of any of it.”

Red checks Twist. “yeah, yer lookin’ pretty low. when’s the last time ya ate anything?”

“Yesterday? Yeah, gotta be yesterday. Don’ gotta eat; there’s these shot things that put magic in my soul – they’re in that box by the dresser, by the way. Anyway, if my HP drops too far, this monitor thing’ll start blarin’, an’ ya just take out my soul an’ inject one a’ those, an’ I’ll be fine. Tha’s another reason I’m glad yer here, sweetheart. Can’t do it myself.”

“i’ll bet. seems like you really should have someone around who knows about all this shit.”

“Yeah, we keep findin’ out about new problems, but the only one who really knows what’s goin’ on is Iggy. She was takin’ care a’ me at first, but her bedside manner ain’t that great, so Cash took me home.”

“did he bother to figure out how to take care of you before he did that?” Not that Cash is much for taking care of people, but surely he at least passed some information on to Blackberry. Not that it does much good with Blackberry unconscious.

“Yeah, mostly. I think. Not too clear on what exactly happened, but we made it work.”

“so where’s cash now? keeping in mind that you didn’t actually kill him.”

“I think he went home? Maybe? My bro got here, and they argued ‘bout some stuff, and he was kinda worn out so he went home. Think he mighta come back at some point, but berry got weird 'bout havin’ anyone else around and was just sure he could handle it all himself. Didn’t work out too well.”

“i can see that. okay, so, if that monitor sets off, i gotta inject whatever that is into yer soul,” and isn’t that a disturbing prospect? “any reason we can’t stop it from getting that bad? i ain’t no chef, but i can pull together a sandwich.”

“Can’t eat a sandwich. There’s these smoothie things I c’n eat. ‘s probly downstairs. I think there’s a recipe, but it’s nasty. My bro was workin’ on makin’ it better. Came up with some pretty good stuff, but I dunno what he did. Maybe Edge could come up with somethin’?”

“mind if he comes over?”

“Nah. Honestly, I was gettin’ so fed up with my bro tryna do everything by himself that I was gettin’ ready ta call the whole group over, soon as I could get ahold of a phone.”

“you didn’t have a phone?”

“Think I left mine in the lab.”

“couldn’t you borrow yer bro’s?”

“I guess,” Twist answers hesitantly. Well that’s just weird. Why does he sound so unsure that he could borrow Blackberry’s phone? Surely Blackberry wouldn’t have refused when that’s the only way Twist had to contact anyone. That’s just creepy. He’s not like that. Right?

“well anyway, let’s get you in bed, and then we’ll see about some food. it can’t be good for you ta lay on the floor so long.”

Twist nods, still seeming hesitant.

“hey, i ain’t gonna do this if yer not ready. you’ve got enough problems right now. ya listenin’?”

“Yeah.”

“okay. all i gotta do is hold onto ya long enough ta teleport. yer arm alright?”

“Yeah, but not my wrist.”

“gotcha. okay, here we go.” Getting a good hold on Twist’s humerus, Red steps into a teleport and has them both on the bed in an instant. He jumps back to the floor when Twist gasps.

“doin’ okay?” he asks as Twist struggles to get his breathing under control.

“Yeah, just… made my head swirl… or somethin’. Not my favorite.”

“sorry.”

“’s fine. Nothin’ c’n just be easy with this shit in my soul.”

“do ya need…? what do ya need? a nap? more water? dinner?”

“All a’ the above, probly. And a blanket? I’m kinda cold. But nothin’ too heavy, ‘cause then I’ll just get stuck in it, an’ you don’ wanna see anythin’ that pathetic.”

“one light blanket comin’ right up.” Red heads out the door, then sheepishly sticks his head back in. “where do you keep yer blankets?”

“Got some in a closet, just down the hall. Assumin’ we got any left. I’ve kinda been goin’ through a lotta blankets.”

“got it.” Red darts out to find the right closet, and returns with something nice and fluffy. “how’s this one?”

“Love that one.” Twist smiles as Red lays the blanket across him and Blackberry. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“no problem.” Red steps back as Twist squirms around to snuggle up against Blackberry. If they weren’t both such a mess, it would be an adorable picture. Blackberry turns his skull slightly to snuggle against Twist’s ribs. Okay, never mind the dried blood and spent magic. That’s just too cute to let pass. Checking that both of their sockets are closed, Red sneaks his phone out and snaps a picture. “you guys gonna be alright while i go call some people?”

“Yeah,” Twist mumbles, voice heavy with sleep.

“kay. i’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

“mhm.” The last of the tension fades from Twist’s body as he drifts off, arms wrapped around his little brother, who now seems more asleep than unconscious. They’re just too damn cute. Red shakes his head and turns away. He has no business standing around watching those two be stupidly adorable.

Stepping into the hallway, he shuts the door very quietly and pull out his phone. He’s got some calls to make.


	26. Chapter 26

The first call Red makes is to Papyrus, who answers on the first ring.

“CHERRY! HOW ARE YOU? IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT? DID YOU LEAVE SOMETHING HERE?”

“nah, creampuff, i’m fine. just stopped by twist and blackberry’s house, just ta check things out, make sure they’re doin’ alright.”

“YOU DID? OH, I’M SO GLAD TO HEAR THAT. YOU’RE STILL THERE, AREN’T YOU? IT LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE. HOW ARE THEY? BLACKBERRY SOUNDED JUST TERRIBLE ON THE PHONE, EVEN WORSE THAN THE LAST TIME I SAW HIM. I DIDN’T WANT TO INTRUDE, OF COURSE, BUT HE REALLY DIDN’T SEEM WELL, SO I WAS A BIT CONCERNED. ARE THEY ALRIGHT?”

A bit concerned, right. That’s why he was pacing around arguing with himself about going over to check on them the whole time Red was there. It was enough to make Red a little worried, too. Apparently, it was justified. “depends how you define ‘alright’.”

“OH NO!” Papyrus gasps. “ARE THEY SICK? ARE THEY HURT? WHAT HAPPENED? OH, I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE COME OVER EARLIER! I SHOULD HAVE COME CHECK ON THEM THE SECOND HE HUNG UP THE PHONE. I KNEW HE WAS HIDING SOMETHING! ANYONE WOULD HAVE KNOWN IT! OH, WHY DIDN’T I COME CHECK?”

“creampuff! papyrus! relax. they’re okay! they’re not doin’ great, but i’ve got them both safe in bed and healed up.”

“HEALED UP? THEY NEEDED HEALING? THAT’S EVEN WORSE!”

“they’re okay! look, twist didn’t make a lot of sense, but from what i could tell he joined some kinda experimental treatment for lv that really knocked him for a loop, and blackberry tried to take care of him by himself ‘cause he didn’t want anyone else around when twist was hurt, so he didn’t tell anyone and twist didn’t have his phone.”

“BUT WHY DIDN’T HE TELL ME THEY NEEDED HELP? SURELY HE KNEW I WOULD WANT TO HELP? WE ALL WOULD. MAYBE NOT ALL AT ONCE BECAUSE THAT MIGHT BE TOO MANY PEOPLE WHEN TWISTED-ME ISN’T FEELING WELL, BUT WE COULD HAVE TAKEN TURNS. HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON? IT MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST SINCE BEFORE YESTERDAY MORNING.”

“no clue. like i said, twist didn’t make much sense. i think something happened yesterday that fucked him up more than normal, and the berry managed ta knock himself out somehow and was still sleepin’ after we got him healed up, so i ain’t got much information.”

“BLACKBERRY’S HURT TOO? THEY BOTH ARE? BUT YOU SAID YOU HEALED HIM, SO IS HE ALRIGHT NOW? DID YOU HEAL TWISTED-ME, TOO?”

“nah, he said it could kill him.”

“WHAT?!” Red winces. He loves the creampuff, but shit can he ever be loud. Not that Red’s own brother can’t, but he's usually a little better at volume control.

“i know. i dunno what that’s about, either. said it had somethin’ ta do with his magic, but he couldn’t explain it. he wasn’t really very with it.”

Papyrus takes a deep breath, then continues at his normal volume. “SO TWISTED-ME WAS HURT FROM THIS LV EXPERIMENT AND BLACKBERRY WAS HURT FROM HITTING HIS SKULL, WHICH IS PROBABLY RELATED TO WEARING HIMSELF OUT FROM TRYING TO TAKE CARE OF TWISTED-ME ALL BY HIMSELF. WHY DIDN’T HE TELL ME? I MEAN, OBVIOUSLY NOT ABOUT THE SKULL-HITTING PART, BUT HE MUST HAVE NEEDED HELP BEFORE THAT. WHY DIDN’T HE SAY ANYTHING?”

“dunno. twist seemed kinda mad about it. maybe he was so worried about twist that he went into panic mode, started thinkin’ they just needed ta hole up at home and lock down the house for safety?”

“BUT WHY WOULDN’T HE TELL US SO WE COULD HELP? DOESN’T HE TRUST US?” How to explain this? Not like Red thinks it was a great choice, himself, but he kind of gets it. A little bit.

“you’d think so, but, i mean, ya know in fellverses trust only goes so far. like, maybe he normally trusts us, but not quite that much. it’s tough ta let anyone near yer brother when he’s hurt.”

“THAT SOUNDS TO ME LIKE HE DOESN’T REALLY TRUST US AT ALL. SURELY HE CAN’T THINK ANY OF US WOULD HURT TWISTED-ME. EVEN OUR GRUMPIER FRIENDS WOULD JUST STAY OUT OF THE WAY WHILE THE REST OF US HELPED.”

“look, i dunno what’s goin’ on with him either. we can ask him ourselves when he wakes up. point is, they do need help, and twist gave the go-ahead for everyone to come over, so now i’m roundin’ everyone up and filling them in on what i know. so how ‘bout it? ya mind comin’ over here ta help me sort these two out?”

“OF COURSE! I MEAN, OF COURSE I DON’T MIND. I’LL BE THERE IN… MAYBE 15 MINUTES? OR 20. OR LESS. WELL, ANYWAY, I’LL BE THERE SOON.”

“thanks, creampuff. i’ll call the others.”

“YOU DO THAT. I’LL SEE YOU SOON, CHERRY.”

“see ya soon, creampuff.”

As soon as Papyrus hangs up, Red calls Cash. Now that it’s <strike>mostly</strike> firmly established that Cash is still alive, he seems like the best source of information for what’s actually going on. Of course, the asshole doesn’t answer his phone. He might be asleep, or he might be intentionally ignoring Red’s call, in which case, fuck him. Red almost never prank calls him just to be obnoxious anymore. It’s been at least a month. That time two weeks ago doesn’t count because Cash was being a dick.

He tries to convey the important information as efficiently as possible by voicemail. “hey asshole! answer yer phone! yer the one who’s s’posed ta know why i found twist and blackberry covered in blood on twist’s floor this morning. call me back.”

Good enough.

Who else needs to know? Definitely Edge. He’ll want to know about Twist and about the LV thing, and he should be helpful with managing everyone and translating between fellverse paranoia and taleverse sensibilities. He’ll also be good to have around in case there's a repeat of whatever happened to the wall.

Edge answers quickly, because Red’s little brother has more sense than to ignore an important phone call just because someone might have felt like being just a little bit annoying once or twice. “What is it now, Runt?”

“hey, boss. got some news about our friends from twistfell that ya might wanna hear.”

“What is it, and why are you calling me from their hallway?”

“the hallway thing’s part of the news, but just lemme start from the beginning, or at least as much of it as i know.”

“Is it something serious? Do I need to speak with the embassy?”

“what about the embassy?” Rus’s voice comes over the phone line, too close to be doing anything but putting his mouth right up against Edge’s. Red’s been fine with them being together for a while now, but he doesn’t really need to be involved in any mouth-to-mouth contact.

Whatever, might as well answer them both. “honestly, i have no idea. for all i know, they might already know. there’s a royal scientist involved, somehow, iggy, but i dunno if she’s actin’ officially or not.”

“What did she do?” Edge sighs, clearly resigned to managing yet another crisis.

“like i said, i don’t really know, but it has something to do with a treatment for lv.”

“She’s been working on that for awhile, but as far as I know, it hasn’t gone anywhere.”

“well according to twist, it’s gone somewhere now. he says she's come up with a cure.”

“WHAT?!” So much for Edge being better at volume control. The sound of something dropping and a muttered apology from Edge suggests that Rus isn’t any more impressed at the noise than Red is. “There can’t possibly be a cure for LV. It would be all over the news, or at least all over the embassy. I doubt it's even possible.”

“yeah, i’m not all that convinced either, but twist seemed pretty sure. sure enough to try it for himself, at least.”

Edge sighs again. “What did he do?”

“signed himself up for this ‘cure’ thing, except it sounds like it was more of an experiment than an actual cure, and now his magic’s fucked up and he can barely move. 'parently blackberry’s been tryin’ ta take care of him by himself for awhile now. i found ‘em both on twist’s floor today. the berry’d managed ta knock himself out somehow, and twist was tryna take care of him, but like i said, he’s pretty fucked up, so they were both pretty much stuck til i came along. twist didn’t make much sense when he tried to explain it, so that’s about all i know.”

“Is anyone in any immediate danger?”

“not that i know of, but i don’t know enough about it ta say for sure. i got ‘em both in bed and finished up healing blackberry’s skull, but twist says healing fucks with his magic, actually he specifically said that it could kill him, don’t ask me how, so i dunno how ta help him. sounds like cash might know somethin’, but he’s not answering his phone.”

Edge sighs yet again. He's almost certainly rubbing his sockets. “Fantastic. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

“great, thanks. oh, before you bring rus along, i’m pretty sure twist has been hallucinating, so i’m not sure how safe he is ta be around.”

“Are you in danger?”

“nah, not me. he was perfectly friendly when i talked to him, and he’s pretty weak and confused so i’m pretty sure i’d get plenty of warning if he was gonna try ta attack me, but you know how our taleverse pals are ‘bout remembrin’ ta keep an eyelight out for danger.”

“hey!” Rus exclaims, apparently having gotten over Edge yelling in his acoustic meatus.

“Well, it’s true,” Edge counters. “Remember our walk on Saturday night?”

“how was i supposed to know that guy would think robbing a couple of skeletons, one of which is _you_, was a good idea?”

“You couldn’t know, but there was also no reason to assume that he wouldn’t–”

“look, i know that was dumb, but–”

“i’ll just leave you two lovebirds to it, then. just wanted ta let you know. i’m gonna go now.”

“The _point_ is that – oh, Red, of course. Go look after them. I’ll be over in a few minutes. And be _careful_.”

“always am, boss.”

“Right.”

Red hangs up before any more can be said on _that_ subject.

Who else to call? Everyone should probably know what’s going on before too long, but everyone rushing over at once might be a little overwhelming for the skeletons in Twist’s room, especially the one who attacked the wall at some point and briefly thought he’d killed someone. It would be nice to ask Twist who he’d like him to call, but Twist is fast asleep and needs all the sleep he can get. So who else might Twist want around?

Who would Red want around if he was hurt and about to be surrounded by the combined energy of Edge and Papyrus? They’re both great, but they both have their own ways of being a little much sometimes. They need someone a little calmer to balance them out. Red’s not so sure he can do it by himself.

If it was him, he’d pick Slim. Actually, maybe Twist would pick Slim, too. They sure like each other well enough, and Slim would definitely want to help. The only problem is his low HP, but he’s fellverse too and can decide for himself whether he wants to risk it.

The more Red thinks about it, the more he likes the idea. Maybe Slim can even get Twist to make a little more sense. He’s slipped his way right through twisted logic before, so maybe he can manage this new, scrambled-magic-LV-experiment level of twisted logic. Maybe Slim can even get ahold of Cash. The asshole is more likely to listen to him than anyone else. Besides, he’d probably be hurt if Red didn’t tell him. Yep, definitely calling Slim.

Slim takes awhile to pick up the phone, but he probably really was asleep, unlike _some_ people. His sleepy voice when he answers confirms it. “hey.”

“hey, slim. sorry if i woke ya.”

“it’s fine.”

“hey, so, i was wonderin’ if you’d like ta come help out with twist. he got himself involved in some kind of lv experiment, and now he’s not feelin’ too great.”

“is he okay?”

“not really.”

The call disconnects as Slim appears at the bottom of the stairs.

***

Slim teleports to Twist’s house without giving it much thought. He doesn’t know what he can do to help, but something’s wrong with Twist and Red is calling him about it, so of course he needs to go over there.

He puts away his phone when he sees Red at the top of the stairs.

“that was fast,” Red comments quietly.

Slim shrugs.

“well, since yer already here, come on up.”

Slim nods, and climbs the stairs. When he reaches the top, Red steps over to Twist’s bedroom, carefully opens the door, and silently beckons him inside. Taking the cue to move as quietly as possible, Slim creeps down the hallway and peeks in the room. He holds in his gasp as his eyelights dart from the bloody blanket on the floor, to the large crack in the wall, to the bundle of skeletons and blankets on the bed.

“what happened?” he whispers.

“long story,” Red responds just as quietly.

Slim nods. Whatever it is should probably wait until they won’t disturb the sleeping skeletons.

Still moving as quietly as possible, Slim steps over to the bed. His soul clenches in worry at the sight. Neither of them look too bad at first glance. Blackberry has a little dried blood left on his skull, but whatever injury caused it seems to have been healed and now he’s sleeping peacefully, curled up against Twist’s ribs <strike>which is pretty cute</strike>.

Twist, though… he’s not obviously injured, from what Slim can see. A few scratches, but nothing that would normally bother him. But something about his face looks… hollow, heh, a hollow skull, but seriously, he looks completely drained, like something’s eating him up inside, and there’s a tightness to his expression that says he’s not sleeping peacefully. His arms are wrapped around Blackberry in a protective embrace. His claws twitch where they dig into the blanket at his back. A glance at Red reveals that Red shares his worry.

“what…?” Slim mouths, not even sure what he wants to ask. What happened to Twist? Will he be okay? What can Slim do to help? But Red just shakes his head and gestures to the door. Slim nods, takes a careful step in that direction, and steps right down on a creaky floorboard.

Twist jumps. They both whirl around to find him snarling at them, magic building in his broken socket <strike>is it _sparking?_ </strike>control hand raised but no attacks that Slim can see. They lock eyes for a moment in some kind of standoff before Twist collapses into the pillow with a whimper.

“twisted?” Red asks warily. Twist whimpers again, but follows it with a growl, laying a protective arm over Blackberry. “hey, it’s just me and slim. red and slim. nobody else here. just the two of us, and we’re not gonna hurt nobody,” he reassures, spreading his arms in front of himself disarmingly. Twist glares at him suspiciously, then glances at Slim.

Slim joins him with his arms spread, palms forward to show that he isn’t going to try anything, ready to teleport away in an instant if needed but really hoping to avoid that. “it’s just us,” he agrees softly.

“Slim?” Twist asks. When Slim nods, Twist’s eyelight darts back to Red. “Red?”

“yep, it’s just us. nobody else here.” Red sure seems to be making a point of emphasizing that. Slim would like to ask who else might be here, but now seems like a bad time.

“Jus’ you two? Yer sure?”

“yep.”

“But I thought… nah, that was stupid. ‘Course it’s just you two.” Twist relaxes a little. He at least doesn’t look like he wants to kill them anymore. “Just some stupid dream. Hate those fuckin’ things. Won’t lemme sleep, an’ half the time when I wake up I think they’re real an’ then I go do somethin’ stupid, ‘cept I can’t actually _do_ anythin’ anyway so it just turns out pathetic. Least I can’t hurt ya this way. That’d be worse – hey, Slim’s here! Sorry, I’m a little slow on the uptake. Heya, darlin’! How ya doin’?”

Slim blinks at him for a moment before answering. “i’m fine? um… how are you doing?”

“Terrible, but it’s my own fault, at least most of it, and it’s worth it anyway, so don’ worry 'bout me. ‘s good ta see ya!”

“uh… you too?” What even is this conversation?

“That’d make one of us. I’m a fuckin’ mess.” Twist chuckles, before burying his skull back in the pillows.

“should we let you go back to sleep?”

“Probly.” Twist yawns, then whimpers.

“what’s wrong?”

Twist whimpers again, then shakes his skull. “’s nothin’. Soul just hurts. Think I fried it?”

“you fried yer soul?” Red asks worriedly. Slim agrees with his concern, wondering why Twist doesn’t seem concerned. It seems like he should be. Right?

“Yeah. ‘s probly no big deal,” Twist mutters through gritted teeth.

“probably?” Slim asks, skeptically.

“Happens whenever I try usin’ my magic. Ain’t too bad. It’ll–“ Twist groans, then continues, “it’ll go away.”

“looks pretty bad ta me,” Red says.

“Nah, this is–“ Twist whimpers again. “’s nothin’.” The way he’s grimacing and curling in on himself says otherwise.

“you sure?” Slim asks.

“Yeah. Be a lot worse if it was worse.” Because that makes sense. “Jus’ gotta…” He doesn’t finish. His claws are digging into his metacarpals, so Slim gently takes his hands. He moves slowly so Twist can object if he wants to, but all Twist says is, “don’ lemme hurt you.”

“i won’t,” Slim reassures, and positions his hands so Twist’s claws don’t reach anything but air. They sit like that for a minute or so, Slim holding Twist’s hands as their grip slowly weakens and Red watching worriedly from beside them. Then Twist relaxes.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he whispers, his hands limp in Slim’s own.

Slim nods, then adds “no problem,” unsure how well Twist can see him with how hazy his eyelight has become. Twist’s hands start to tremble, so he scowls at them and tries to pull them away. The first one to get free flops limply onto Blackberry. Twist winces, so Slim tries to set the other one down gently. Apparently he doesn’t manage to convey that plan to Twist, because Twist’s sockets widen in panic as he gasps and yanks desperately at his trapped hand.

Slim lets go the instant he realizes that Twist is freaking out. Twist draws both hands up against his ribcage, where they shake with every shallow breath.

“twist?” Twist’s eyelight darts towards Slim at the sound of his name, but he gives no other response. “twist? it’s slim. i didn’t mean to scare you. i’m sorry.” Twist continues to stare with wide sockets, but his breathing loses some of its frantic quality.

“Slim?” His eyelight darts towards Red. “Red?” Red nods. “Still jus’ you two?”

“still just us. me n’ slim. no one else. the hand thing was an accident.”

“Hand thing?” Slim and Red both nod. Twist looks down at his hands. “Ya didn’t mean ta…?”

Slim shakes his skull. “i was just trying to put your hand down carefully.”

“Oh.” Twist blinks. “Oh. ‘course ya were. Yer Slim. Yer a good guy.” Well that’s nice to hear. Nice that Twist thinks so, at least.

“sorry i scared you.”

“Wasn’t you.” Who was it, then? Slim almost asks, but catches Red’s eyelights out of Twist’s line of sight and thinks better of it.

“i’m sorry anyway. i’ll be more careful.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. It’s stupid, but thanks.”

Slim shakes his skull again. “not stupid. now, how can i help?”

“Probly jus’ need more sleep.” He doesn’t look very enthusiastic about the idea, but he does look exhausted. “’s ‘bout all I’ve done since this damn thing started.”

“since what started?” Maybe Slim should have taken the time to ask what was going on before jumping right into the middle of it, but he just had to check on Twist, and Red didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

“LV cure thing?” Huh?

“huh?”

Twist sighs. “There’s a cure fer LV. I’m tryin’ it out. I know, I know, shoulda checked things out first, made sure it wasn’t gonna kill me or make me crazy or somethin’, or at least told someone. I just got too excited an’ jumped right in. You know how I am.”

Yeah, that all sounds reasonable, and it would be nice if Twist would be a little more careful about taking care of himself, but it’s really not the most important part of what he just said.

“you’re getting rid of your lv?” Is that even possible? It doesn’t sound possible, but Twist wouldn’t make it up.

“Yeah.” Twist sighs again. “Tryin’, anyway. Can’t say I’ve seen much progress so far.”

“but you think it’s going to work?”

“Yeah. Iggy’s sure, at least, an’ it’s sure doin’ somethin’.”

“that’s wonderful!” Slim leans over to hug Twist before thinking better of it, but when Twist weakly lifts his arms towards him he takes it as permission and hugs him tightly. “i’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He can hear the smile in Twist’s voice.

“do you want to tell me about it?”

“Sure, if ya feel up ta tryna figure out what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. I don’ make much sense, half the time.”

“that’s okay.” Slim stands up from the hug and sees Twist smiling just as widely as he thought he was. Then Twist frowns.

“’cept maybe we shouldn’t, ‘cause we’ll wake up my brother.”

“seems pretty fast asleep ta me,” Red interjects.

“Guess he is, an’ I guess I wouldn’t mind if he did wake up, just ta prove he’s okay. Can’t really argue that he has ta watch me every second now that yer both here.”

“what happened to him, anyway?”

“Cracked his skull on the nightstand, if you c’n believe it.”

Red snorts disbelievingly. “how’d he manage that?”

“You’d be amazed what you c’n manage ta do to yerself after refusin’ ta sleep fer three days.”

“why’d he do that?” Red asks. That’s what Slim wants to know, too. One of many things he wants to know.

“Long story, darlin’. Real long story. Think it might be a longer story than I c’n tell right now.”

“that’s okay,” Slim reassures. “just tell us what you can.”

“Sure, if ya feel like listenin’ to me try.”

“i’ve got all day to–" Slim is interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

“bet that’s the others,” Red says as he turns towards the door.

“What others?” Twist asks, browbone furrowed in confusion.

“the ones you told me ta get? remember?”

“Oh, right. Guess I fergot. Was kinda out of it earlier.”

“didja not mean ta tell me ta invite them over? it shouldn’t be everyone. i just talked ta boss an’ papyrus. i c’n send ‘em away if you don’t want 'em here.”

“Nah, ‘s fine. I want ‘em here, just fergot fer a minute. ‘s better ta have more people here ta help. I’m a lot of work.” Twist gently pats Blackberry’s skull.

“i’m sure you can’t be that bad,” Slim says, suspecting that’s not true the moment he says it as he mentally reviews all the trouble they’ve had just since he arrived.

“You ain’t seen nothin’, yet.”

“i’ll take your word for it.” Twist smiles again at that. He sure does seem happy any time Slim believes him.

The doorbell rings again, followed by loud knocking.

“guess i’d better go let whoever it is in before they break down the door,” Red sighs.

“Thanks.” Twist responds, presumably in appreciation of the effort to save his door.

With an irritated shout of “i’m coming, i’m coming!” Red teleports downstairs.


	27. Chapter 27

Papyrus steps back from the door after some perhaps slightly overenthusiastic knocking. It’s terribly impolite to keep demanding that someone answer the door, but the past few days have shown that a lack of communication really isn’t something that should be ignored. He glances at Blue, who keeps bouncing on his toes, and asks, “DO YOU THINK I SHOULD RING IT AGAIN?”

Blue nods. “What if something happened to them? Or what if they’re ignoring us so they can keep hiding things? We can’t let them keep doing that.” Blue is just as worried about them as Papyrus. They’ve discussed the matter several times over the past few days. Red didn’t specifically ask Blue to come help, but Papyrus certainly wasn’t going to keep him out of the loop. Besides, it will be nice to have someone sensible around in a house full of stressed out fellverse monsters.

“RIGHT.” Papyrus reaches towards the doorbell. He’s about to push it again when a growl of “i’m coming, i’m coming!” comes from inside. The door opens to reveal Red’s scowling face. “CHERRY!”

Red’s face softens. “heya, creampuff. c’mon inside. you too, blue.” He steps aside to let them through the door.

They both look around as they step inside. There are no immediate signs of trouble, but also no signs of Twist or Blackberry.

“everyone’s up in twist’s room,” Red explains as he heads up the stairs, so they follow.

Twist’s room is… honestly not as bad as he thought it might be, although the crack in the wall and the bloody blanket on the floor are concerning. At least Blackberry and Twist are both safely bundled up in bed. Blackberry is sleeping, curled up against Twist’s ribcage, one hand wrapped loosely around a couple of ribs. Slim sits on the edge of the bed, calmly chatting with Twist, who is smiling slightly. All-in-all, the scene looks rather peaceful.

“HELLO, TWISTED-ME. HOW ARE YOU?”

Twist startles as his skull jerks towards Papyrus, but then his smile widens. “Papyrus! Heya, sweetheart! Good ta see ya. And Blue!”

Blue waves enthusiastically. “Hi, Twist.”

“C’mon in!” Twist beckons them towards the bed. They both make their way over, following Red who has already made himself comfortable in a chair.

“YOU SEEM TO BE FEELING BETTER THAN RED DESCRIBED.”

“Yep, feelin’ pretty good right now. Just chattin’ with Slim. He’s good fer morale.” Twist grins as Slim blushes.

“I’M GLAD YOU TWO ARE ENJOYING SPENDING TIME TOGETHER, EVEN IF THE CIRCUMSTANCES AREN’T IDEAL.” Slim must realize he’s blushing, because he turns his face away to hide it in his hood. Better stop teasing before the embarrassment becomes too much. “NOW, AS REVITALIZING AS SMALL-ME’S PRESENCE IS,” alright, maybe just a little more teasing, “I’VE HEARD THAT YOU’VE ACTUALLY BEEN HAVING QUITE A BIT OF TROUBLE. SOMETHING ABOUT AN EXPERIMENT WITH LV?”

“Yeah, fucked me up pretty bad.”

“LANGUAGE,” Blue and Papyrus both scold automatically, before glancing at each other sheepishly. Perhaps this isn’t the time for that.

Twist chuckles. “Yeah, good luck with that one, sweetheart. I’m doin’ good if I c’n say somethin’ that makes any sense, half the time. I’m just not up ta remembrin’ not ta swear. My bro’s even given up.”

“Well, alright, I suppose that makes sense,” Blue concedes, as Papyrus nods agreement. “And, well, maybe it’s not actually any of our business anyway,” he adds.

“Great. So, anyway, it really fucked me up, but! It’s working, far as I know, so before too long my LV’s gonna be gone, an’ then I c’n be just like you guys. I mean, kinda. A fellverse version of you guys? ‘cept we already have those, an’ that’s us, an’ most of us got way too much LV, ‘specially me, so not like that at all. But ya know what I mean.”

Not really, but Papyrus can appreciate the enthusiasm, so he nods along.

“Maybe you just mean someone who grew up in your universe but has no LV?” Blue suggests.

“Yeah, like that! Like my bro, ‘cept I don’ think losin’ some LV’s gonna make me just like my bro, so maybe someone else. ‘cept wouldn’t that just be a sweet piece?” Twist snorts and nudges Slim, who snickers, as Blue and Papyrus glance at each other uncomfortably. “How ‘bout it, darlin’? Think I’d look good all dressed up in fancy silks an’ playin’ a harp?” Slim nods, and Twist bursts out laughing. “Maybe, maybe I could get some lessons from Lotus on bein’ all fancy an’ shit. Get all dolled up in makeup an’ polish my bones all shiny. What’d’ya think? Would you do me?”

Slim nods very seriously. “i think you’d look very nice in silk. you don’t need it, though. i already like how you look without it.”

Twist’s levity disappears, and he looks away. “Oh. Uh… thanks. Nice of you ta say.”

Slim lays a gentle hand on Twist’s own, meeting Twist’s sockets intently when he turns back to face him. For a moment, it almost seems like he’s going to say something else, but then he smiles teasingly and says, “i’d have to insist on a bath first. you’re a mess.”

Twist chuckles weakly, but the smile that follows it is genuine. “Bet I stink, too, don’t I?”

“not too badly.”

“Hey, no need ta lie about it. I c’n take it.”

“YOU SMELL JUST FINE, TWISTED-ME.” Papyrus reassures, glad to let the awkward moment pass. Poor Twist, never able to take a genuine compliment. At least Slim is here to help. They’re good for each other, even if neither of them realizes it yet. And even if their humor isn't entirely appropriate.

“Yeah, yeah, fine. ‘m sure it smells like roses an’ fresh-baked bread in ‘ere, darlin'.”

“If we could put Twist’s good looks and questionable smell aside for a moment,” Blue interjects, “could one of you maybe fill us in on what’s going on? All we know is that Twist is hurt from some experiment with his LV, Blackberry tried to take care of him all by himself and hit his head somehow, and Red found you both on the floor. Do I have that part right?”

Twist nods decisively. “Yep. Think that about covers it. We’re a mess. Glad yer here.”

That doesn't quite cover it. “I’M GLAD THAT WE HAVE THE BASICS CORRECT, BUT I THINK WE ARE MISSING A LITTLE BIT OF IMPORTANT INFORMATION. SUCH AS ALMOST ALL OF THE INFORMATION.”

“Oh. Uh… ya probly got a point there, sweetheart, but I’m not so sure I c’n do anythin’ about it. I’m not doin’ a good job explainin’.”

“you explained it just fine to me,” Slim reassures, patting Twist’s hand.

Twist smiles in response. “Thanks, darlin’. Mind fillin’ 'em in? ‘m glad it made sense ta you, but I still don’ think I’m makin’ much sense in general.”

“maybe we should wait til everyone’s here?” Red suggests from where he’s sprawled across the chair. It’s good to see that he’s still awake. Papyrus was starting to suspect he had chosen this time for a nap.

“EXCELLENT IDEA, CHERRY!” Twist winces, so Papyrus makes a quick mental note to try very hard to keep his volume down. “WHO ELSE IS COMING, BY THE WAY?”

“for now, just boss and maybe rus. depends who wins the argument 'bout almost gettin’ mugged on saturday.”

“They almost got mugged on Saturday?” Blue asks worriedly.

“apparently. i didn’t ask fer details. point is, they should be here any minute, so let's just wait for them ta get here. ‘less ya wanna explain it twice, slim.”

“might as well wait.” Slim agrees with a shrug.

***

Edge rings the doorbell, then waits patiently for someone to answer. Unlike some people.

“why, exactly, are we waiting out here when we could be in there helping?”

“Because the generally accepted procedure for visiting someone’s home is to ring the doorbell and wait to be invited inside.”

“they already invited us. that means we can go in. come on, what if they need us and we’re just standing out here waiting for them?” They’ve already had this argument. Repeatedly.

“What would you suggest? Unexpectedly teleporting in front of a monster who has already been reported to be potentially unstable?”

Rus shifts uncomfortably. “hey, don’t talk about twist like that.”

Edge scowls. “I’d rather not need to, and I very much hope that he’s fine, but that’s no reason to take foolish risks on the chance that he’s not.”

“i’m not taking foolish risks. i just want to get inside to make sure everyone is alright.”

“appearing suddenly without warning in front of a monster who has something wrong with his lv is the very definition of a foolish risk. this is why i didn’t want you to come.”

“you didn’t want me to come because you’re being overprotective.”

“I’m being overprotective because you’re not taking this seriously enough.”

“what, so you’re just going to write twist off as crazy and decide he’s not safe to be around?”

“No, I’m going to insist on a reasonable amount of caution from monsters who can’t take much damage until we know what’s going on and what the risks might be. LV problems of any kind are not something to take lightly.”

“i’m not taking it lightly! i just want to get in there and help instead of arguing on the porch while who knows what is going on inside.”

“We are going to go inside; I just don’t think we need to do so unannounced!”

“think you’ve both announced yerselves pretty well by now,” Red drawls from the open doorway, “so any time ya wanna pause this lovers’ spat and step inside, yer welcome.”

Edge sighs. He’d swear Red does these things on purpose. “How long have you been standing there, Runt?”

“long enough that i ain’t so sure yer one ta scold someone else about a lack of situational awareness, boss.”

Rus snorts, even though he clearly didn’t notice the door opening either. “i take it twist hasn’t gone crazy and killed everyone?”

“hadn’t last time i checked. seems more concerned with makin’ doe eyes at slim an’ gettin’ all embarrassed when slim does it back.”

“so pretty typical stuff, then.”

“yep. come on in. everyone’s up in twist’s room.”

They all step inside and head towards the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Edge puts a hand on both skeletons’ shoulders to halt their movement.

“Runt.” Red turns towards him, browbones raised. “Are you sure Twist is safe to be around? Completely sure?” He glances at Rus, not even caring that Rus sees him do it.

“yeah, boss. i really am. i was worried earlier, but he really hasn’t done anything dangerous an’ i’m not too sure he could. he kinda freaked out earlier, not like he was mad, more like he was scared, thinkin’ slim an’ me were gonna hurt his bro, and even then he couldn’t do anything that woulda hurt either of us, least not unless we let him. just gotta keep an eye out fer how he’s actin’, and we’ll all be fine.”

“Hear that, Rus? Keep an eye out.”

“what i heard is that twist is scared and hurt too badly to hurt anyone.”

“Never assume that. But I agree that the situation sounds safe enough for you to come along.” As soon as he says it, Edge realizes it was a mistake.

“thanks for your permission, edgelord,” Rus spits out.

“i’ll just head upstairs,’ Red mutters, and does just that.

“I didn’t mean that you need my permission. I just want you to be careful. Is that so much to ask?”

“careful of what? it’s twist! you know twist, right? everyone’s-best-drinking-buddy twist? randomly-calls-everybody-up-for-free-cookie-delivery twist? part-of-a-knitting-circle twist? put-up-with-cash-in-his-house-for-months-and-not-only-didn’t-kill-him-but-kept-inviting-him-back twist? actually-gets-slim-comfortable-enough-to-talk twist? why do i need to be careful?”

“How about 17 LV Twist?”

“seriously? now you’re getting on me for _not_ holding someone’s lv against them? didn’t we go through this enough before we started dating?”

“It’s not about holding it against him. Do you think I’m blaming him for it? I’d hardly be one to talk.”

“then why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“like twist is some potential enemy or something.”

Edge rubs his scarred socket. Sometimes the divide between his own universe and Rus’s seems very large; even, or maybe especially, when Rus tries to understand. “I do not think Twist is a potential enemy. I. Am. Worried. About everyone. Especially Twist. LV is dangerous. It’s a problem at the best of times, let alone when it's been affected by some mysterious ‘experiment’ we know nothing about. It pushes you to see enemies everywhere and react in ways you do not want to react at any other time. Forgive me if I'm not entirely comfortable putting you _or Twist_ in a situation where a moment’s inattention could lead to your death.”

“twist’s had 17 lv for the whole time i’ve known him and i’ve never had a single reason to be afraid of him, any more than i’ve had any reason to be afraid of you. should i start being extra careful around you now, too?”

Edge glares. “I would hope that if I was ever compromised in a way that made my control of my LV uncertain, you would bother to exercise a little bit of caution so I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my hopefully short life having killed you.”

Rus’s jaw drops. “edge…”

“Do you think I’m asking all these questions for fun? I have _seen_ monsters pushed over the edge of sanity by LV. I've seen monsters who seemed to be managing better than Twist does lose themselves completely because some unforeseeable circumstance pushed them just a little bit too far at just the wrong time. I've had to put some of those monsters down. I've seen the devastation left in their wake, including among people who they would _never_ have wanted to hurt. Forgive me for not allowing that to happen to my own family if it’s within my power to prevent it.”

Rus's face crumples. “edge… precious, c’mere.” Edge lets himself be wrapped in a hug, but doesn’t return it. This problem is not solved. It’s not safe to leave it unsolved. Rus refuses to even acknowledge it, so Edge can't let it go. He can't. “look, we don’t know that any of that is what’s happening here. all we know is that someone tried to get rid of twist’s lv and now he’s hurt. that’s all. everything else is just your mind freaking out and trying to solve every problem you can imagine before it becomes a problem. that's not even possible. we don’t even know that there is a problem. just wait.”

“We don’t know that there isn’t a problem, either. Waiting until you know for sure that there’s a problem gets people killed.”

“in underfell, precious, in underfell. this isn’t underfell. this is the surface. things don’t work like that here.”

“They do more often than you think they do.”

“but less often than _you_ think they do.”

“That’s still too often.”

“it is, but it doesn’t mean we always have to assume the worst. red isn’t worried.”

“_Red_ never worried about falling asleep at his unguarded sentry station in full view of every enemy I had in Snowdin. I don’t trust his judgement when it comes to responding to threats.”

“okay, so he’s not great at taking care of himself, but he wouldn’t just ignore twist going crazy.”

Edge sighs again, but finally returns the hug. “You’re right. I know you’re right. If things were as bad as I fear, Red would be more concerned.”

“see, nothing to worry about.” Edge pulls back and opens his mouth to speak. “which doesn’t mean i won’t be careful!” Rus hurries to add. “i promise i will. i’ll watch how twist's acting and if you tell me to leave, i will, no questions asked.”

“You will?”

“promise.”

“I suppose that’s all I can reasonably ask.”

“i’ll even stay right beside you so you can protect me until we have a better idea of what’s going on.”

“That would help.” It would help immensely to at least have Rus within reach.

“good.” With a quick tap of a kiss, Edge and Rus both pull out of the hug and turn toward the stairs.

Where they find themselves inches away from a glaring Slim.

“are you done arguing?” Slim demands in a low voice that sends shivers down both of their spines. “you’re upsetting twist.”


	28. Chapter 28

Edge and Rus follow Slim up the stairs, Rus trailing behind Edge as promised. Edge winces at the sight of the already opened door, realizing how well their conversation must have carried to Twist's room. If he was already experiencing the kind of instability that Edge thought he might be, hearing concerns about his LV discussed so blatantly might have made it worse. Shoving his hopefully unnecessary feelings of guilt aside, he strides confidently across the hallway.

They enter the room to the sound of Twist’s frantic babbling.

“…I won’t, promise, won’t hurt him, won’t hurt anyone, I…” Twist’s gaze darts from Rus to Slim to Red to Blackberry sleeping through the whole thing beside him. His sockets widen in terror. With a whine, he scrambles away from his brother, getting tangled in the blanket before escaping and pushing himself over the side of the bed.

Shouts echo across the room as Twist falls. Rus, Red, and Slim each teleport to catch him while somehow avoiding colliding with each other. Twist snarls and kicks at them, struggling to get away, so with a glance they agree to lower him to the floor and step back. Edge takes their place beside Twist as Twist presses his spine against the bed, not touching him but crouching close enough to intervene if he seems likely to hurt himself <strike>or anyone else</strike>. Catching Blue and Papyrus’s wide eyes, he gestures for them to stand nearer than the low HP skeletons but still out of reach.

“Twist?” he asks in the gentlest voice he can manage. Twist doesn’t look at him but doesn’t try to attack or escape, either. “Twisted?” An eyelight darts towards him for a moment, so he continues. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Don’ wanna,” Twist whimpers, cringing away, claws digging into his own metacarpals as his hands clench into fists.

Is questioning him even a good idea right now? Maybe not, but he’s acting erratically, just as Edge feared, so Edge really needs to know what’s happening inside his skull. Just fear and confusion manifesting as aggression under threat, or something worse? “You don’t want to tell me?”

Twist shakes his skull, then finally focuses on Edge, frowning. “It didn’t… I’m not… I’d know, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I? I mean… I couldn’t, couldn’ jus’ be sittin’ here talkin’ ta you. I couldn’t, I’d be… If I did? Right?”

“If you did what?” He’s not being particularly aggressive, just enough to make everyone back off. This is definitely fear and confusion, probably caused by Edge’s own idiocy. It almost seems safe to step back and let someone more comforting take over, but that experiment was supposed to specifically target LV. There’s no taking chances when it comes to Twist and LV. Twist would never forgive him if he did.

“Dunno. Killed someone? Cause I mighta?” Shit. “Or, I dunno. I… why’re ya…?”

“_Did_ you kill someone?” It might not be as bad as it sounds. Angel knows Edge has woken up in various states of confusion from injuries or poison or just some fucking nightmare and mixed up the past and the present. “What do you think is happening right now?”

“My LV?” Fuck. Is he confirming that his LV is involved? “If I’d lost it?” Or maybe he’s acknowledging that Edge is trying to figure out whether he’s having LV problems. “Like ya said. Don’ wanna. Edge. Yer Edge?” Does Twist even know what he’s talking about? Edge doesn’t.

“Yes.” Wait. Better make sure it’s clear exactly what he’s agreeing to. “Yes, I’m Edge.”

Twist’s sockets close in relief as his fists unclench. “'kay. Okay. Yer Edge. So, you won’ let me.” Twist smiles. “Said that once, right? Won’ lemme lose myself? Promised.” Shit. Twist does seem to be worried about his LV. But that could still just be because of Edge’s idiotic lack of discretion about his concerns.

“I did say that.” Please don’t let it be relevant right now. “Are you having problems with your LV?”

Before Twist can answer, Rus crouches down closer than Edge would like, although still behind Edge, as he promised. He hisses, “can we not get on him about that right now?” Edge pointedly ignores him, keeping his full attention on Twist. He really wants to let his LV concerns go, but that comment about losing himself doesn’t sound good. Maybe Twist knows something the others don’t? Or maybe Twist is just blowing a momentary loss of control out of proportion and Edge is making it worse. It’s hard to tell under the best of circumstances, which these are most certainly not.

Twist doesn’t seem to notice Rus’s comment. Or his presence. “Dunno. I, I thought… seemed fine, an’ Red said it wasn’t real, but I dunno, an’ ya said… an’ you know as much’s me, an’ I don’ un’erstand anythin’ right now, so if you think I’m losin’ it maybe I am an’ I could hurt ‘em an’ I can’t do that. I won’t – I - I can’t, don’ lemme please I can’t!” He buries his face in his hands, claws digging into his skull.

“twist!” Rus calls, moving even closer because he refuses to grasp that you don’t approach a dangerous monster who’s agitated enough to hurt himself and isn't sure whether he's killed someone. “it’s okay. you’re okay, and so is everyone else. you haven’t hurt anyone and there’s nothing wrong with your lv.”

Twist finally seems to notice Rus, lowering his hands so his eyelight can peek out, locking far more intently on Rus than Edge would like. “But there is, an’ I… what if there is? Edge said! An’ I don’…” Fuck. _Why_ could they not have kept that discussion outside? Why did he think it was so important to warn Rus about Twist right down the stairs from Twist’s open door? Obviously, there was something wrong before they got here, but from Red’s description everything was going smoothly before Edge just had to assume the worst and talk about it where Twist could hear him. He’s never going to forgive himself if his stupid comments were the last straw in Twist’s sanity.

“twisted,” Red tries, “listen–”

“I almos’ put a bone through ‘is skull!” Through whose skull? Is that something that actually happened? This would be a whole lot easier if Twist could just make sense.

“you were hallucinating!” Red insists. “you told me so. that has nothin’ ta do with lv.” Hallucinating. Okay. Not great, but infinitely more manageable than destabilized LV. Not that it rules out destabilized LV. Twist’s LV is always on the edge of being destabilized, which is why Edge shouldn’t have upset him when there was already something wrong.

“An’ I killed…” Did that happen or not?! “No, ya said… didn’tcha? Didn’tcha say he’s alive? No dust. There’s no dust. But what if it blew away or Sans swept it up or–”

“ENOUGH!” Everyone jumps at Edge’s shout. “I need to know what actually happened. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Now, does anyone have any reason to believe that Twist has actually hurt or killed anyone? Lately, I mean.”

“no,” Red scowls. “twist’s fine. or not fine, but he ain’t killed anyone. anyone else got a reason ta think differently? slim? you been talkin’ ta him the most.”

Slim shakes his head. “he did say he’s having trouble telling what’s real, though.” He crouches down and scoots closer to Twist. Twist whimpers, so he stops, staying near Edge. “remember? you told me you were hallucinating and having nightmares? do you think that’s what you’re remembering?”

Twist’s browbones furrow. “Uh… I dunno? How’m I s’posed ta know? I r’member… but Edge said!” Is this whole mess really just because Edge let his own fears get away from him? If Twist was already having trouble telling what was real, and then Edge came along and brought up his greatest fear and then treated him like it was true, of course Twist would be upset. And of course Twist would assume he was losing his mind instead of considering that Edge is just a paranoid bastard who can’t stop acting like anything outside of his control is going to turn around and bite him in the ass. Of course.

“edge said he was worried,” Slim corrects. “that’s all. he doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“That’s true.” Edge backs away a half-step, only slightly against his better judgement, and lets Slim move closer. “I apologize for causing so much distress. I was concerned, but I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you would attack Rus.”

“I wouldn’t. Would I? Don’ think I would, but I dunno, cause maybe… I mean, if my LV’s fucked up…”

“Is it?”

“I dunno! Didn’t think so, but you said it was, so I dunno.”

“I said it could be. I don’t know anything about the state of your LV or anything else about your current condition, other than that you seem to be injured or ill.” And he should know better than to act on so little information when the situation isn’t urgent. It’s not like a monster who fell out of bed and can’t get up is a serious threat to anyone, and if he was worried about Twist’s sanity then how exactly did he think pressuring him like that was going to help?

“But what if yer right?”

“I don’t have enough information to form an opinion, so I have nothing to be right about.”

“Huh?” Right. Remember that at best Twist is confused and not operating at full mental capacity. Speak plainly.

“Your LV is fine, as far as I know. I just wanted Rus to be careful.”

“Why? If I’m fine.”

“because sometimes he’s an overprotective ass,” Rus growls. Edge is probably going to be hearing about this one for quite a while. He probably deserves it.

“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Twist seems more settled now. Relaxed, even. Good. Wait.

“What business do you have calling me–”

“Cause ya are.” Twist grins. Why is he grinning? Wasn’t he terrified approximately fifteen seconds ago?

“you definitely are,” Rus agrees, as Red nods, also grinning. What is this, some kind of conspiracy to drive Edge insane? One minute he’s trying to carefully do a threat assessment on a terrified but potentially dangerous monster and the next minute that monster, his boyfriend, and his brother are all making fun of him? Is he the only adult in this room?

Blue and Papyrus converge on Twist, happily chattering away. Slim pulls Twist up into a careful hug, before blushing at the realization that Twist’s bare ribcage is pressing up against his own. Rus makes some truly awful pun about bonefriends. Blue scolds him for it. Far too many full grown skeletons crack up laughing.

Yes. The answer to that question about their relative maturity is always yes.

***

Cash wakes up with the sun shining directly on his face. Ugh. Damn window. So much for finally getting some sleep. He most certainly did not lie awake half the night worried about Twist. Or all of the night before. He just couldn't sleep. It had nothing to do with Twist. Why hasn’t Blackberry called?

He checks the time. 11:06. Okay, fine, maybe it’s not that early. Or it wouldn’t be if he could stop <strike>worrying</strike> _thinking_ about that idiotic pile of bones with all the self-preservation instinct of a fish monster in hotland and his self-righteous little prick of a brother. _Why hasn’t he called?!_ He’s got a lot of nerve, shutting Cash out when he’s the one who hurt Twist so badly by ignoring an incredibly simple instruction. Which, fine, sure, Cash didn’t communicate very well, that part’s on him, but Twist told Blackberry not to do it and that should have been enough. <strike>Sanses are all the same.</strike> Then he acts like _he_ needs to protect Twist from _Cash_? Bullshit. But why hasn’t he called?

And this is why Cash couldn’t sleep last night. Or get anything done yesterday. Or really do anything at all except worry that he’s left Twist in the same situation he saved him from in the lab. But that’s ridiculous. Blackberry is nothing like a fellverse scientist who’s too caught up in saving monster kind from LV to bother taking care of the monsters she’s trying to save. He’s not. <strike>Some Sanses are.</strike> Twist and Blackberry’s relationship is nothing like that. They’re just a sickeningly sweet, lovey-dovey perfect pair of brothers drifting happily through life together <strike>completely ignoring Twist fighting every day to not lose his mind, because denial makes everything better.</strike>

They sure didn’t seem like a sweet, happy pair of brothers when Blackberry was telling Twist off for trying the LV treatment. Not that Cash was happy about it, either, especially about Twist not telling anyone he was doing it. He certainly could have taken some precautions to make sure he didn’t end up as an anonymous pile of dust swept up in a dumpster behind the lab. That part was perfectly reasonable to be upset about. Twist doesn’t protect himself, and that’s a problem. But Blackberry seemed upset that Twist joined the trial at all, like Twist needed his permission or something. Then there were those digs about Twist being ‘free with his affections’. What business is it of Blackberry’s who Twist fucks? Obviously in that particular context, Twist wasn’t up to fucking anyone, but no one was _trying_ to fuck anyone so why did he even bring it up? And where does he get off accusing Cash of trying to fuck a fucking invalid who can’t tell the difference between Cash and the shitty Muffet he apparently used to work for and is absolutely terrified of?

So yeah, fine, Cash is worried. Twist was pretty freaked out about having his joints taped together and was really disoriented from his magic being suppressed. That alone would be enough cause for concern, even without whatever Blackberry was going on about that night. Can’t forget Blackberry’s sleep problem, either. Maybe that’s why he was acting like such a little shit. Maybe they really are the happy little family they seem to be and Blackberry was just irritable because he was tired. Angel knows Cash was tired after just half a day of taking care of Twist. Or maybe that’s really how he always is and he just got too tired to hide it. <strike>Sanses are good at pretending to be perfect.</strike> Either way, it’s concerning. But is it concerning enough to spend more time being told what a worthless piece of shit he is by another Sans?

These thoughts circled through Cash’s skull all day yesterday. They never got him anywhere and they still aren’t. He wants to go check on Twist. There probably isn’t any good reason to go check on Twist. Twist and Blackberry are probably fine. Twist was happy to see Blackberry. Twist is always happy to see Blackberry. Twist didn’t argue either time Blackberry sent Cash home. Twist is probably tired of having Cash around anyway. <strike>But he said he liked having Cash around.</strike> Twist is too nice for his own good. No one wants _Cash_, of all people, taking care of them. <strike>No one wants Cash.</strike> The very idea is just ridiculous. <strike>Twist is always ridiculous.</strike>

Twist is better off with Blackberry. That was the plan all along. Get Twist out of the lab, keep him alive long enough for Blackberry to get home, let Blackberry take over, and leave. Blackberry is who Twist needs right now. <strike>So why didn’t Cash call Blackberry when they first got there?</strike> Because he’s a selfish asshole taking advantage of Twist’s delusional idea that Cash is worth having around.

Ugh. Fuck this. No one has called, so they don’t need help. He’s reading way too much into a few meaningless comments, the worst of which were insulting Cash, not Twist, anyway. They’re fine. They’re certainly more fine than they would be with Cash. Blackberry hasn’t called because he has everything under control, and even if he didn’t, Cash is not who he would pick to help. Certainly not now that he’s decided Cash is a fucking _rapist_. Best for everyone involved if Cash just leaves them alone.

Blackberry _hasn’t_ called, right? Cash checks his phone, just in case. There’s nothing from Blackberry or Twist, just a text from Red, which Cash is definitely not going to read in this mood. It would be way too much effort to cover up murdering the little shit head. He needs a drink. No, fuck that. This calls for more than a drink. He needs a whole fucking bar. Fortunately, he’s got a few that will let him in this early, no questions asked.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear someday this thing is going to get fluffy and stay that way.

Someone gets Twist back in bed. He’s not really sure who it is or how they do it, or rather, he probably knew at the time, but it kind of drifts away after awhile. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is someone did it, and someone wrapped a nice warm blanket around him and Blackberry. Blackberry is still peacefully sleeping beside him, thank the stars, and Slim is back on the edge of the bed with most of their other friends scattered around the room. It’s almost overwhelming to have so many people around with the effects of the past day catching up with him, but that doesn’t hold a candle to the relief of having them here.

“twist is pretty sure it’s an actual cure,” Slim answers someone’s question about something. At least that’s probably what he’s doing. He’s been talking to the others for awhile, explaining whatever Twist managed to tell him earlier so Twist doesn’t have to do it again. Which is a good thing, because Twist has about reached the end of his ability to talk to anyone. Or follow a conversation. Or have thoughts? Nah, probably still has some thoughts, but they’re not doing what he tells them anymore. He snuggles down further into his pillow. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Finally. His soul isn’t melting and there’s finally someone here who doesn’t need need him to do anything. They can take care of themselves, or each other, or something. Make sure everyone gets enough sleep and no one gets a bone through their skull. Whatever. The blanket is comfy.

“–side effects? Beyond what we’ve already seen?” No one answers. Probably someone should answer. “Twist?”

“Huh?”

“Are you listening?”

“Nope.” Maybe that’s not the right answer. “Maybe?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘definitely not’,” someone says. Maybe it’s Edge. It sounds like Edge. That’s good. Edge can be in charge. He’s good at it. But he keeps talking. “Try to pay attention for a little while longer. We’re just trying to determine if there’s anything we need to be concerned about in the immediate future, then we’ll let you sleep.”

“Mmm.” Sleep would be good. Maybe help with the fuzziness. He’s been fighting the fuzziness for too long. A little bit of emptiness too, but it’s fine. Sleep is comfy.

“I realize that ‘sleep is comfy’,” huh, said that out loud. Fun to hear Edge say it. “but that doesn’t really tell us what we need to know. Just answer my question and then you can sleep.”

“m’kay.” He waits for the question.

Slim shifts on the bed. Maybe he should come get under the fluffy blanket, too. How many skeletons can fit under one fluffy blanket? Probably a lot, if they snuggle. Different kind of snuggling for Slim and little bro, though, except it’s probably safer to stick with brotherly snuggling all around, actually. What are they talking about, again?

“i’m not sure he remembers the question,” Slim says. Slim is so smart. Does Slim know how smart he is?

“You’re probably right.” Edge again. That’s definitely Edge. Twist cracks a socket open. Must have closed it at some point. Opening it doesn’t really bring Edge into much better focus, though. He’s not a Sans, that’s for sure, but he really could pass for any Papyrus. He’s probably Edge, though. Sounds like Edge.

“Heya, Edge.” That’ll be awkward if he isn’t Edge.

“Hello?” Definitely Edge, then. That’s good. Edge is nice, unless he needs to not be nice. Either way, it’s good that he’s Edge.

“Heya, Edge.”

“You said that already.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m kinda fucked up.” Might have said that already, too. Whatever. It’s still true.

“I can see that. Is something specifically wrong, or are you just tired?”

“Not a clue. Tired.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question.”

“Sorry, darlin'. 's what I got.” He probably needs to do better. Can he do better? Not really. So tired. And fuzzy. And empty. Why’s he empty?

“hey, it’s fine. don’t worry about it.” That’s not Edge.

“Yer not Edge.”

Not-Edge snorts. “definitely not. i’m rus. are you having trouble seeing us?”

“Yeah. How’d ya know?”

“you asking us all who we are was a pretty good clue. unless it’s those memory problems slim was telling us about. are you having trouble remembering things?”

Twist shrugs. Or he tries to shrug. Maybe it works. It's all fuzzy. “Yer guess is as good as mine, sweetheart.”

“That’s not particularly reassuring.” Edge again. That’s definitely Edge. Twist is getting good at telling them apart. Who needs to be able to see, anyway? But Edge seems worried, which is worrying.

“Don’t feel all that reassured, myself, darlin’. I mean, I did, but now I ain't too sure.”

“Is there something we should be concerned about?”

“Dunno. I mean, I think ya are? So probly, but I dunno. Yer smarter’n me.” Someone snorts, but Edge shushes them. Edge is good at being in charge.

“It has nothing to do with intelligence. I’m concerned because I don’t have enough information to know whether there’s a problem. Beyond the obvious, I mean. Which is why I haven’t let you go to sleep yet.”

“Oh. C’n I sleep now?” Because he really feels pretty empty, so maybe sleep will help. Worth a try, anyway.

“As soon as we figure out what’s going on.”

“Good luck with that, darlin'.”

Edge sighs. “It would go much more smoothly if you would answer my questions.”

“What questions?”

“Maybe we should just let him sleep for awhile.” That’s a Sans voice. Like Blackberry, but not quite.

“Blue?”

“Yes. See, he’s not even sure who he’s talking to. How do you expect him to answer questions?” Is that part meant for Twist? Probably not.

“He managed earlier, when he was much more agitated.”

“He kind of did, but not very well, and he was probably running on adrenaline then.”

“BLUE IS RIGHT. TWISTED-ME NEEDS TO REST. LOOK AT HIM, HE CAN’T EVEN KEEP HIS EYES OPEN.” Huh, guess that’s true. Maybe that’s why everyone’s voices sound like they’re floating out of the walls. Maybe he should open them? Nah, too hard. Makes the emptiness worse. Like he’s drifting away. Where’s he going?

“I’m sure it will be a great comfort that we let him rest if he dusts from something we could have prevented.”

“then maybe that’s what we need ta ask. hey, twist?” That’s a Sans. Definitely a Sans. Which one is it? Red!

“Red!”

“yep, that’s me. just answer one question, an’ then you can sleep. just one, got it?”

“Sure.” People keep saying that, but they just keep talking. That’s okay. It’s nice to have people around, even if they won't let him sleep.

“is there anything that might happen that could dust you?”

“Sure.”

“What is it?” That’s someone else. Could they just pick one person to talk?

“Uhh… you could stab me or somethin’? Or blow me up? Or somebody else could? All the normal things, ‘cept it’d be easier now.” Seems like that would be obvious.

“see, there's nothing to worry about, so let’s just let him sleep.” Lower case Papyrus, not Slim because Slim is a comforting weight at the end of the bed… Rus! Someone who appreciates the value of a nap. Not that Twist normally does, but right now there's not much he wants more in the world.

“Is that the only concern? Nothing that the treatment might cause? It’s perfectly safe?”

“No?" Nothing has seemed safe about it so far, but Twist is too tired to think, and very empty, so what does he know? "I mean, I don’ think so, darlin'. Is it?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.”

“Wasn’t safe earlier. Almost killed me lotsa times.”

“What happened?” They sound worried. Is something wrong?

“Almost killed me? When my HP dropped? I think. ‘m not really doin’ too good when it happens, so I dunno. Somebody else fixes it.”

“Your HP dropped? Did something cause it, or was it just spontaneous?”

“Jus’ spint… spon… jus’ happens. Or when I’m too tired. C’n I sleep now?”

“Just a moment. How tired?”

“Dunno. Dizzy. An’ empty. Like I used too much magic.” Kind of like right now. Maybe he should be concerned. Whatever. Too tired to worry.

Someone checks him. It feels weird after so many days of not being able to feel his own HP. Everything feels weird. Too empty.

“Fuck. I’m healing you. Now.” Nononononono.

“Don’t. Please please please don’.”

“Why not? Do you have any idea how low your HP is?”

“Don’ matter. Please don’ heal me. Please, darlin’.” He can’t go through that again. Not now. It’s just too many things in a row. “Please don’t.”

“Well I can’t very well leave you like this!”

“If not Edge, would you like me or Papyrus to try?” That's... Blue? Maybe? Why are they all doing this?

“No! I can’t… Please, what’d’ya want? I can’t. ‘s too… I can’t.”

Someone else checks him. “YOU HAVE TO LET US HELP YOU, TWISTED-ME. WE CAN’T LEAVE YOUR HP THAT LOW. I PROMISE WE’LL ONLY DO AS MUCH AS NECESSARY, BUT WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING.”

Twist only whimpers. There are too many of them and he can’t stop them. No one will listen, not even his friends. They’re supposed to be his friends. Why won’t they listen? “Please don’t.” No one will listen and he’s too weak to make them, so tired of being so fucking weak, and the emptiness hurts.

“It’s too dangerous to–”

“wouldja all just shut up fer a minute an’ listen?” Red growls. It’s Red. Thank you, Red.

“There isn’t time to–”

“he told me healing could kill him.”

“Oh.”

“now, if yer all done talkin’ over twist and sendin’ him into a stars-damned well-justified panic attack, how ‘bout we talk things over fer a minute and come up with an actual plan ta get his hp up?”

“Why didn’t you share that information earlier, runt?”

“didn’t think of it, and it never occurred ta me that all three a you’d take the mother hen routine so far that you’d walk right over him sayin’ not ta heal him. He even said please. think he’s just makin’ all that up ‘cause runnin’ outta hp is fun?” Red’s telling them to listen. That is what he’s doing, right? He’s saying to listen and don’t heal Twist. Right? It’s hard to tell. He’s so tired and the emptiness burns.

Twist manages to open one socket just enough for an eyelight to shine through. Red is standing between his bed and the others, and Slim has scooted up the bed to sit right in front of Twist. He can’t see their expressions, but Red’s hands are on his hips and Slim’s control hand is just slightly raised. Twist slides a hand over to bump into Slim's back. It’s all the acknowledgement he can manage, but it’s enough for Slim to turn and give him a reassuring smile.

“you guys really weren’t listening, just rushing ahead to try and fix everything,” someone who isn’t either of them says, so it’s probably Rus.

“We’re just worried, Papy. Very worried. His HP is terrible.”

“well i don’t think healing is going to fix that, given that red said it would kill him.”

“Obviously that’s not an option, but neither is leaving it so low.” That’s Edge. Probably.

“A GOOD MEAL IS ALWAYS A GOOD WAY TO BUILD UP A MONSTER’S HEALTH. ASSUMING THAT MONSTER CAN EAT. CAN YOU EAT, TWISTED-ME?”

No one answers. Who’s supposed to answer? Oh, Twist is supposed to answer. He’s so tired. “Kinda.”

“What do you mean?”

“Smoothies. Tha’s what I c’n eat, I mean.” Maybe he’s even hungry. Shouldn’t he be hungry? Maybe he was hungry when everything hurt too much to feel it but then his body gave up on it. “Maybe I’m hungry.”

“WHY DON’T WE MAKE ONE OF THOSE SMOOTHIES AND SEE?” Works for Twist. It’s better than healing, anyway. As long as it’s not apples.

“'kay. stuff’s downstairs.”

“Are there any particular requirements for these smoothies?”

“Dunno. Jus’… smoothies. Smooth smoothies.”

“ONE SMOOTH SMOOTHIE COMING RIGHT UP. NOW YOU JUST STAY RIGHT THERE AND DON’T DO ANYTHING. AND MAYBE DON’T FALL ASLEEP.”

No promises. “Sure.”

Some skeletons leave the room, while some others stay. Slim stays.

“Not gonna make smoothies, sweetheart?”

“you wouldn’t want me to.”

“Heh.” Probably not. Slim’s as bad as Twist in the kitchen.

He’s so tired.

“hey, don’t fall asleep.”

“Hmm?”

“stay awake.”

“Okay.”

***

Cash scowls down at his drink. As much as the situation calls for getting roaring drunk in the middle of the day, it doesn’t seem quite as appealing as it did at home. What if someone calls? What if something goes wrong and Blackberry doesn’t know how to fix it, so he calls Iggy instead and she convinces him to take Twist back to the lab and leave him there? Surely he wouldn’t do that, but what if, in refusing, he decides to take Twist home and solve the problem himself, but he can’t?

Whatever. They’re grownups. They can make their own choices. Not like it’s any of Cash’s concern. Which is why he keeps checking his phone every few minutes. Because he doesn’t care. Right.

Cursing himself for the futility of it all, he pulls out his phone again. Still just that one notification from Red. He’s starting to hate that little number. It never changes. Might as well open it to get rid of it. He taps the message. A cold wave of terror runs up his spine.

“hey asshole! answer yer phone! yer the one who’s s’posed ta know why i found twist and blackberry covered in blood on twist’s floor this morning. call me back.”

What the fuck happened to them?

***

Cash teleports into Twist’s hallway, cautious and refusing to acknowledge the visions of piles of dust flashing through his mind. No one said anything about dust. There won’t be any dust. Red said he found them covered in blood. That means that Red found them and they were still alive when he did. He didn’t even sound concerned, just pissed.

But what if he wasn’t concerned because he thought he could just heal them? If they were both unconscious, there would be no one to tell him not to heal Twist, and it’s not something someone would guess. How did they end up like that anyway? Even if Twist attacked Blackberry during a flashback, Twist just isn’t strong enough to seriously hurt anyone. Or at least he wasn’t, but what if that changed somehow?

Nothing like this should have happened, except Cash wasn’t there, and obviously something did happen and Cash didn’t do anything to stop it. He never does anything to stop it. Useless. Pathetically useless.

Steeling himself, he peeks around the corner into Twist’s room, dreading what he’ll see. It’s not going to be dust. It’s not. Red would have called again, at least to yell at him. There won’t be any dust.

There’s no dust. Cash feels faint at the sight of Twist safely in bed, Blackberry beside him, Slim sitting on the edge of the bed and Red and Rus leaning against the furniture. He gaze zeroes in on Twist, who smiles vaguely at Slim. He’s fine. Everything is fine. Red figured out how to help without anyone getting dusted and now Twist is fine. He’s fine. He’s fine and happy with Slim. That’s good. Twist is always happy with Slim around. Twist frowns for a moment, but Slim soothes it away. They’re fine.

Panic fading, Cash finally notices the sounds coming from downstairs. People are talking in the kitchen. The blender runs. They must have figured out the smoothies. That's good. They’ll get Twist a smoothie, and Twist will keep smiling happily at Slim, and everything will be fine. They don’t need Cash’s help at all.

Of course they don’t. Cash doesn’t help. That’s not what he does. He doesn’t even want to help. They’re all fine. Red found someone who actually bothered to answer the phone and they’ve got it all worked out. It’s fine. Twist is perfectly fine without Cash. He goes back to the bar.

***

Edge pauses in the kitchen doorway, Blue peeking under his arm and Papyrus glancing over his shoulder.

“What happened in here?” Blue whispers, horrified.

“IT SEEMS, PERHAPS… BLACKBERRY WAS A BIT TOO BUSY FOR HOUSEKEEPING?”

That’s an understatement. It’s not that the kitchen has reached the status of a health hazard. Not quite. Rus or Red could easily do worse if either of them ever bothered to try to cook. But for Blackberry to leave a kitchen like this…

An unwashed blender sits on the counter, its contents drying into a gooey crust that will be hell to get off. No sane chef would leave it like that. Ingredients are scattered around the surrounding counter, some spilled out the sides of their boxes. A pile of water bottles surrounds the sink, some washed and some clearly just sat there by someone who meant to get around to them later.

Edge steps hesitantly into the room. Something crunches underneath his boot.

“Did he just not _notice_ the broken glass all over the floor?” Blue asks incredulously.

“Apparently not,” Edge responds, unsure what else to say.

“PERHAPS, UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES ASIDE, IT’S BEST THAT SOMETHING HAPPENED THAT LED TO ALL OF US BEING HERE. BLACKBERRY HANDLING EVERYTHING BY HIMSELF WAS CLEARLY NOT GOING WELL,” Papyrus suggests, as diplomatically as a person can in such circumstances.

“Obviously not.” And really, it shouldn’t be that surprising. How well would any of them handle it, realistically, being the only person available to take care of their extremely ill brother, potentially with no idea how to help? Edge has only been in that position once, and look at where it led him. Of course, unlike Edge’s position at the time, Blackberry does have allies now, but apparently he doesn’t trust any of them as much as they thought.

Enough of this. “Alright, we’re not here to critique Blackberry’s housekeeping. Twist needs food. Papyrus, get to work on that blender. Blue, straighten up this area so we can use it without stepping on broken glass or contaminating the food. I’ll start working out what goes in this smoothie.” Everything in the kitchen might go in the smoothie, based on what’s scattered around the counter, but hopefully a simpler version will do.

A quick inventory finds a collection of powders with instructions for mixing them. It seems like an efficient solution, right up until the moment Edge tastes them. He nearly gags.

“Are those for the smoothie?” Blue asks, apparently unable to see Edge’s face from where he’s sweeping up the glass.

“Absolutely not.” He will not be feeding that to anyone. Maybe Muffet or Asgore. Maybe. If they really pissed him off. “Let’s just try a simple fruit mixture with some yogurt. Perhaps a bit of protein powder.”

Blue points to one of the powder containers. “Isn’t that pro–”

“Not that one.”

As expected, the pantry does contain a more palatable protein powder, which mixes in nicely with the blended fruit and yogurt. It’s not exactly a masterpiece, but all three of them agree that it’s edible. Edge is just pouring it into a cup when a shrill sound blares from the staircase.

“WHAT IS THAT?”

“Probably nothing good. Let’s head upstairs.”

They rush back to Twist’s room, Edge carrying the smoothie.

The sound is coming from Twist. Everyone is hovering around his bed, looking worried as he tries to tell them something.

“'sa… monter thing.” Twist pauses to catch his breath.

“monter?” Slim asks gently.

Twist blinks at him, then tries again. “Mon… it… intor? Fer HP.”

Slim’s browbone furrows in confusion, then his sockets widen. “oh! a monitor! it monitors your hp.”

“Yeah. That.”

“So that sound is an alarm?” Edge asks. “It goes off when it detects low HP?”

“Yep.” Twist’s sockets close.

“How low?” Edge checks him. “Fuck.”

“Mhmm.”

“Why is it still dropping?”

“Nnnn.”

“Twist?” Edge strides nearer to the bed. “Twist, you need to answer me.”

“Mm.”

“Twisted, this is important. Answer me right now.”

“Mmm,” Twist whimpers. “Try.” His voice is little more than a whisper, barely audible beside the alarm.

“NEVER MIND WHY IT’S HAPPENING. WHAT CAN WE DO TO HELP?”

“Don’… know.”

“There must be something. Has this happened before?” Edge demands.

“Shot. Innnnnnn, in my… my soul.”

“Shot, like with a gun? What?”

“no! boss, he said somethin’ like that! it’s an injection. there’s some kinda injection you can give ‘im if his hp gets too low. he didn’t really explain it, and it wasn’t really relevant at the time so i didn’t pay too much attention, but it sounded like somethin' that’s s’posed ta fix this kinda problem.”

“Is that true?” Red shrugs, and Twist doesn’t answer. “Twist, is that true?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there an injection that can replenish your HP?”

“Hmm? Yeah. Yep.”

“Well where is it? How do we use it?”

“My soul?”

“We use it in your soul? Or it’s already there?” Edge pulls back Twist’s blanket to reveal the source of the alarm, a small device on the side of Twist’s soul. “Is that the source of the injections? Can it inject medicine into your soul?”

“Hmm?”

"How do we give you an injection?"

"Hmm."

“Oh, never mind. You’re not going to be able to explain.”

“S’rry.”

“Well it’s hardly your fault. Now, can you tell me if there’s anyone who knows how to help with this?”

“Hmm?”

“Who can help?”

“Dunno.” Fantastic. This is getting them precisely nowhere. Try to think of another way to ask.

“Who helped you before?”

“'fore what?” A two word response that acknowledges what he said. That might be something to work with.

“Did your HP drop before?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

Is Edge imagining it, or is the glow of Twist’s soul getting weaker? This situation is getting critical.

“Stay with me. Who helped you when your HP dropped before?”

“Mmm.”

“Twist. Papyrus! Who helped you when your HP dropped before?”

“Uhhh… Cash? An’ li’l… bro.”

“SHOULD WE TRY TO WAKE BLACKBERRY?”

“good luck with that if he hasn’t woken up from all this noise right under his skull,” Rus says, and he has a point. Blackberry doesn’t seem to have recovered enough yet from whatever happened to wake up. Further efforts to wake him seem likely to be futile.

“What about Cash?” Edge asks.

“i called him earlier, boss, but he didn’t answer and he hasn’t called me back.”

“Call him again.”

“bet he still won’ answer.”

“maybe we should go look for him,” Rus suggests. “i mean, the three of us can cover a lot of ground pretty fast, and it’ll be harder to ignore us if one of us is right in front of him.”

“Good idea, Papy," Blue says. "You three go look for Cash, and we’ll work on keeping Twist awake.”

“'m awake.”

“Good. Stay that way.”

“Tired.”

“You can be tired, just don’t go to sleep." Rus, Red, and Slim briefly confer with each other and then each step into a shortcut. “They’ve gone to look for Cash. They’ll bring him back here when they find him.”

“Patches?”

Edge can’t help but snort. “If that’s what you want to call him.”

“Miss him.”

He’s probably the only one, except maybe Slim, but if anticipating Cash’s arrival keeps him awake then it’s worth encouraging. “If they can find him, they’ll bring him here.” Not that he’s willing to make false promises when he doesn’t even know if they will find Cash. Hopefully he’s at least stayed near the monster area of town.

“'d be nice. ‘f he’s alive.”

“He is.” He’d better be, although he’s going to regret it when it comes time to explain why he ran off and left Twist behind thinking he was dead.

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

"‘sa dream. Bad dream."

“You dreamed that he was dead?”

“Killed him.”

“Ah.” Yes, Edge has had those dreams, too. Nothing cures them quite like seeing the person alive and healthy afterwards, which Twist hasn’t been able to have because Cash disappeared.

“Loud.”

“The alarm? Yes, it is.”

“Off?”

“I’d love to turn it off, but I don’t know how.”

“Oh.” Twist makes a brief effort to open his eyes, but it fails. “Tired.”

“Try to stay awake.”

“Mhmm.”

“Twist. Stay awake.”

“Mmm.

"Maybe we should still try to feed him?" Blue hesitantly suggests.

"Perhaps. Twist, do you think you can eat?"

"Mmmhm."

"Is that a yes?"

Twist doesn't respond.

"LET'S JUST TRY IT. MAYBE WITH A SPOON SO ALL HE HAS TO DO IS SWALLOW IT?"

Edge considers that for a moment. He's not entirely comfortable trying to feed a monster who's quite this weak and un-alert, but it's the only option they have to help with Twist's HP. "Alright. Maybe we can at least keep his HP from falling too far until Cash gets here." Assuming Cash does get here. If not, they'll need another plan, though what that plan might be is a little nebulous at the moment. Contact the scientist who was responsible for all of this? That's extremely risky without knowing her motivations. He should have contacted the embassy immediately so they could already be investigating, but now there just isn't time. Besides, they might not have enough time to get him there, and what if Cash does return but can't find them? Still, it's a backup plan, if a poor one. "Let's sit him up so he's less likely to choke."

They arrange several pillows behind Twist to keep him in a semi-upright position, scooting Blackberry to the side. Twist doesn't seem to mind while they're doing it, even managing to open his sockets, but as soon as they let go of him he starts breathing rapidly.

"What's wrong?" Edge demands.

Twist whines. "C... can't."

"Can't what?" If he insists he can't eat, they're in trouble. Edge quickly checks him. Fuck. It's worse. There's not much time.

"Can't..." He starts to tilt sideways. Papyrus grabs him.

"OH DEAR. I DIDN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT. HERE, I'LL SIT RIGHT HERE AND KEEP YOU FROM FALLING OVER."

"And I'll sit on your other side!" Blue exclaims, scrambling over Twist and fitting himself into the area over Blackberry's skull.

Twist smiles faintly at him. "Th'nks." His breathing starts to calm.

Once Twist's breathing has returned to something resembling normal, Edge collects a spoon and uses it to bring a small amount of smoothie to Twist's mouth. Twist's hazy eyelight follows the spoon's progress. His browbone furrows. "Wassat?"

"Food. You're meant to eat it."

"Oh. 'cause... dyin'?"

"Not if I can help it. Now eat."

"Mhmm."

"Twist. Twisted. You need to eat."

"Mhmm?"

"Open your mouth."

Twist's jaw drops open. "Oh."

Feeding Twist is a slow process. Very slow. He needs frequent reminders to open his mouth and to swallow, and several times he chokes before Edge figures out the best place to place the spoon. Each time he chokes is accompanied by a little more lost HP. Not much, but there isn't much more to lose. He really shouldn't even be conscious with it this low, but that's just Twist. Meanwhile, the alarm keeps blaring, as if anyone is in any danger of forgetting that Twist is dying.

Despite the choking, the food does help. It's not enough to help him recover, but once they get the process worked out so he doesn't choke anymore it does stop his HP from falling any further. Twist doesn't always seem quite sure what's going on, but each time his breath starts to falter or his sockets close he forces himself back to alertness and opens his mouth for more food.

"YOU'RE DOING WONDERFULLY, TWISTED-ME!" Papyrus reassures, though he doesn't look nearly as confident as he sounds. "JUST KEEP GOING, AND CASH WILL BE HERE IN NO TIME."

Edge isn't one for false reassurances, but at this point, Twist needs anything he can get. His more practical side insists that this is likely a losing battle, but if anyone is stubborn enough make it through this, it's Twist.


	30. Chapter 30

Slim teleports directly into Cash’s living room, with no time to waste knocking on the door. Twist is dying. Twist, vibrant, generous, ridiculous, very much _alive_ Twist, is dying, HP ticking down to nothing while a bunch of oblivious idiots sat around talking like they had all the time in the world. He was probably already dying back when they were joking around together before everyone got there. He wasn't acting right, couldn't even think straight, and Slim didn’t even notice. No one noticed because Twist acted like there was nothing to worry about, or at least like the things he was worried about were just in his head. But of course Twist acted like he was fine. Twist always acts like he’s fine. They should have noticed.

“cash?” Slim calls, not really expecting an answer. Cash was never going to be that easy to find. He’s probably gone off somewhere, which is why Slim, Rus, and Red split up. They’ll search every building in the area if they have to, though hopefully they can just stick to the public ones so no one has to explain a bunch of skeletons randomly appearing in people’s houses. They’ll find him. <strike>Unless he’s left the area altogether.</strike> They’ll find him. Just keep looking. <strike>Waste much more time and it’ll be too late.</strike>

He checks each room, then heads to the next place he was assigned to search.

***

Twist is empty. Just empty. Everything is dark and empty. Mostly gone.

“Open.” He doesn’t know what that means. Just knows he has to open his mouth. Open his mouth and swallow, because… because… just do it. Important.

“That’s right. You’re doing well. Let’s try another one.”

“Nnnn.” He doesn’t want to. It’s too hard. Too empty. But it’s important.

“Open your mouth.” He does. It’s important. Food goes in. He swallows. The emptiness fills just a tiny bit. Just enough to remember why it’s important.

“More,” he chokes out. Because it’s important. There’s something… little skull against his ribs. Friends all around him. More friends trying to… trying to… it’s too hard. Mostly gone. No, can’t, have to… He opens his mouth without being told.

“Are you ready for more? Here.” More food. Hard to swallow. His magic won’t… won’t do anything. Won’t dissolve it. But it pushes back the fog, just a little. Fills just a little bit of emptiness, just enough to remember. Stay alive. Keep going. Stay alive. Everything’s too hard but it’s worth it. Remember it’s worth it. Worth every second.

“Open.” More food. Eat it. Take what tiny spark of magic his body can get from it. Keep his HP as high as it can go with no magic left to support it. Stay alive.

***

Slim shortcuts into yet another bar. It’s a classy place, not one he’d usually go to, but Cash might. No one has found him yet. They’ve all agreed to text as soon as they do. It’s been too long, way too many minutes with Twist’s HP ticking down point by point. Maybe it’s too late. Maybe he’s gone. Maybe he just kept waiting, trying to hold on for them to come back but they never did, and he died like that just waiting for help that was never going to come –

There’s sweat on his brow. The room’s too hot and there’s no room to breathe. He needs out. The entrance isn’t far, so he stumbles out the door into the fresh air and lights a joint.

That’s better. He inhales deeply, letting the smoke fill his ribcage and caress his soul. That’s much better. Twist can’t afford for him to lose it like that. There’s no time. Shit, there’s no time.

He puts out the joint and steps back into the bar. Surprisingly, no one comes to kick him out or watch him suspiciously, despite him really not fitting into the atmosphere of the place. Or maybe it’s not so surprising, because the place is nearly empty. Just one guy nursing a drink at the bar. Presumably there’s a bartender around here somewhere, but he isn’t immediately visible. The place doesn’t even look open, except for the guy at the bar. Time to get on with the search.

Wait. Fuck. He rubs at the space between his browbones. He looks back at the bar. Fancy purple hoodie pulled up around the head, but that doesn’t hide the skeletal hands around the drink or the boney legs peeking out beneath the pants. Just goes to show how great weed is for Slim’s observational skills. Or maybe that’s the panic attack. Whatever. He shortcuts to the bar.

“cash,” he states.

Cash startles, then turns to glare at Slim. “what do you want?” he growls, then takes another drink. Good thing Slim’s the one who found him. Otherwise, he’d probably just leave.

There's no time to sugarcoat anything. “come with me. twist is dying.”

The glass shatters against the floor.

***

“what? twist is what?” Cash can't breathe. Twist was fine! He was smiling and… not talking and… surrounded by worried people who might not even know what’s going on. But surely Blackberry told them! But Red said Twist _and Blackberry_ were on the floor covered in blood when he found them. What if he couldn’t tell them? But couldn’t Twist have told them? He was awake… and smiling like he was drugged, and not talking, and now he’s _dying_, so maybe he never was fine at all and he couldn’t explain anything. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“he’s dying.” Slim sounds so calm about it. How can he be so calm? Doesn’t he realize what he’s saying?!

“twist is dying?” He can’t… that doesn’t even make sense. Twist can’t be dying. He can’t actually be dying. That’s just… he can’t. And Cash just left. He just left him. He can’t…

“yes. we need your help to save him.” That’s… oh.

“save him?”

“we don’t know what’s wrong. something’s making his hp drop. he said you’d know what to do.” That’s all Cash needs to hear before shortcutting right into Twist’s room, Slim right behind him.

The scene in the bedroom is superficially similar to the one before, with everyone gathered around Twist’s bed, but the knowledge that _Twist is dying_ changes everything. There’s suppressed panic on every conscious face in the room. It’s questionable whether Twist falls into the conscious category, but he must be partially there because he’s working on swallowing something that Edge just spooned into his mouth. The HP alarm is screaming.

“get out of my way,” Cash demands as he strides across the room to the box holding the purified magic. No one blocks his path to the box, but when he turns back to the bed with the syringe no one has moved from their spot. “i said move!”

“Perhaps you could try an explanation instead of appearing out of nowhere and ordering everyone to get out of your way," Edge says with browbones raised.

That fucking asshole. “fine.” No time to fight with him. “this will refill his hp, but only if i can actually get it into his soul, so get out of my way.”

“Ah.” Edge does step back, thank the stars, but Papyrus and Blue stay where they are.

“you two. off the bed.”

“But Twist will fall over if we stop holding him up,” Blue protests.

“there’s a good chance this will trigger some kind of seizure, so unless you want to hold him up while he smacks you in the face, get off the bed. and someone get blackberry out of the way.”

“Oh,” Blue says in a very small voice, as he and Papyrus scramble off the bed. Papyrus picks up Blackberry and rests him on his hip. Twist whimpers at the loss of their support and starts to tip sideways, so Edge catches him.

“get those pillows out of the way and lay him down,” Cash commands.

Edge scowls at him, but complies. Twist’s sockets open, but no eyelight lights. His breathing gets harsher.

“It’s alright,” Edge reassures, and Twist turns his skull slightly towards his voice. “Cash is going to help you.”

“Pa…” Twist starts, but the word chokes off. Fuck, Twist is still calling him Patches. What did he do to deserve this idiot? Absolutely nothing, that’s what, and he’s still doing absolutely nothing as Twist struggles to breathe. The thought startles him back into motion.

“out of the way, edgelord.” Edge growls at him, but backs away from Twist. Finally, everyone is out of the way.

Twist startles when Cash reaches into his ribcage to pull out his soul. “you’re okay. i’m just going to refill your magic,” Cash reassures, in a gentler voice than he ever thought he could use before this whole LV disaster. Whether the words register or just the tone, Twist relaxes as his soul is removed. A corner of his mouth twitches in something that’s nearly a smile.

“Patshsssss.”

“yeah, yeah, i’m patches. try not to throw me off the bed.” Then he plunges the needle into Twist’s soul.

There’s more resistance than he expects. It must be recalcifying. Twist whines at the pressure required to break the surface. Cash really wants to never hear that sound again. He gives Twist just a moment to adjust before injecting the magic.

Twist shrieks and convulses. He’s so fucking sick of hearing all the ways Twist can sound when he’s in pain. A day and a half of being gone wasn’t nearly long enough to forget it. Shouts of concern and protest sound from all around the room, but they can just go fuck themselves. They don’t understand any of this and Cash isn’t explaining. He catches Twist’s hands to make sure it’s safe to put his soul back. It’s a lot easier than it usually is because it’s not the middle of an attack. It’s as much for comfort as anything, and apparently Twist recognizes it as such because as soon as the initial pain passes, Twist turns their hands so that he’s holding on to Cash’s.

Twist opens his eyes. “Patches?”

“yeah. who else would it be?”

“'s you? Fer real?”

“for real.” Twist reaches for Cash's other hand, so of course he lets him take it. It’s Twist.

“Yer not dust?” Fuck.

“no, i’m not dust. did you think i was?”

“I dunno. Maybe?” Twist shakes his head. “Nah, tha’s stupid. Jus’ a dream.”

“it’s not stupid. i…” _ran off and left you because I didn’t want to admit I cared about you in front of your brother_. “i should have come check on you.”

“'s okay. I’m a lotta work.” And of course Twist is taking the blame for Cash being a selfish shithead. He probably thinks it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

“that’s even more reason that I should have checked on you.” As opposed to believing Blackberry had everything under control when he clearly didn't.

“'s okay.”

“it’s not. how did you even get like this? when i left, blackberry was sure he had everything under control.”

Twist snorts. “Sure, darlin’, everythin’ ‘cept how he was gonna sleep an’ watch me 24 hours a day all by himself from now 'til the end of time.”

“he really tried to do that?” He did seem pretty convinced he didn’t need to sleep when he kicked Cash out, but that was after only one missed night’s sleep. Cash assumed he’d give up on it eventually.

“Dunno ‘bout forever, but every time I tried ta get ‘im ta sleep, he kept sayin’ ‘e was fine an’ pourin’ more tea down his throat.”

“JUST HOW LONG HAS BLACKBERRY BEEN AWAKE?” Papyrus asks, startling Cash, who had sort of forgotten the rest of them were there.

“Dunno, sweetheart. Long as he’s been with me, that’s fer sure, ‘cept fer maybe a nap here or there. Short ones.”

“so basically he’s been awake for three days,” Cash clarifies.

“Guess so. With lotsa tea.”

“so that’s why he’s sleeping now?”

“I sure hope it is, sweetheart.” Twist worriedly searches the room, then relaxes when he sees Blackberry still sleeping on Papyrus’s hip, skull resting on his shoulder.

“what other reason would there be?” Cash asks, remembering Red’s original message about them both being covered in blood.

“He cracked his skull. I think.”

“you think?”

“Wasn’ really doin’ too well, myself, at the time.”

"more than usual? what happened?"

“Attack thing. Really long one.” Twist shudders.

“how long?” Twist usually tries to treat the node attacks like they’re insignificant, so for him to actually react to one after it's over is concerning.

“Dunno, darlin’. Started during the day, an’ it was night by the time I could think again. Then my bro passed out, 'cause 'a his skull, ya know, an’ I couldn’t get the phone ta work, an’ I kinda got him healed but it used up all my magic, so I just about couldn’t do anythin’ when Red tried ta check on us in the mornin’ but then I threw the phone at the window so Red came inside an’ called ‘em ta come over ‘n help.” Twist says it all very matter of factly, but the gasps and whispers from the others show that Cash isn’t the only one putting together a horrible picture of what Twist’s past 24 hours have been like, and how badly it easily could have ended.

“idiot,” Cash chokes out. “why didn’t you call me?”

Twist frowns. “Toldja, sweetheart, I couldn’ get the phone ta work.”

Cash frowns. “not then, earlier. when blackberry had been awake for two days straight and refused to take a break.”

“Thought about it, but I didn’t have my phone. Think we mighta left it in the lab.”

Cash rubs his browbones. Of course they left it in the lab. Cash just picked Twist up and teleported him home without giving a thought to collecting his belongings. Which means that Twist has gone all this time without any way to contact anyone. Except, “what about blackberry’s phone?”

“Couldn’t get him ta call. He was so sure he could take care ‘a the whole thing by himself that I couldn’t get him ta agree ta call anyone fer help.”

“Wait a minute,” Edge interjects. “Are you saying that you, the one who was injured and had no way to communicate with the outside world other than through your brother, asked your brother to call for help and he refused.”

Twist’s gaze shifts away. “I wouldn’t ‘zactly say he _refused,_ darlin'. Jus’ kept comin’ up with reasons that no one was a good choice ta call. I know I shoulda tried harder ta convince him, but he c’n be pretty stubborn.”

“Stubborn about not letting you call for help.”

Twist rolls his eyelight. “Sounds creepy when ya say it like that. Look, it’s not as bad as yer makin’ it sound. ‘s not like he locked me up in the basement. He did a great job takin’ care of me. Dealt with a lotta shit I’da liked him not ta hafta deal with. The main reason I wanted ta call someone was ‘cause he was wearin’ himself down ta the bone –” Slim, Rus, and Red snort at the overused pun. Cash refuses. “– an’ I jus’ wanted him ta take care of himself ‘fore somethin’ like this,” he gestures to Blackberry’s sleeping form, “happened.”

“Hmpf.” That’s apparently all Edge has to say on the subject for now, but he’s unlikely to let it go completely. That’s good, because Cash has quite a bit more to say about it, too. Later.

“since cash is here, and twist is feeling well enough to talk, maybe now would be a good time to fill us all in on what’s going on,” Slim suggests, quite sensibly, in Cash’s opinion. Slim is probably the only sensible one in the whole group.

“Good idea,” Twist agrees, because the only thing he’s ever sensible about is agreeing with Slim. “Hey, uh, Patches? I mean Cash? I mean –”

“why are you bothering to start calling me by my name now? i’ve been ‘patches’ since i found you. at this point i’m used to it.”

“Uh… ‘s just, I mean, guess I thought… But I mean I guess if ya don’t mind…” Twist glances down at their joined hands. As does everyone else.

“what?” Cash snaps, _not_ at Twist but at every other asshole in the room.

“Nothin’, sweetheart.” Twist smiles as he pulls his hands away. Cash knows that smile. Fuck, he despises that smile, now that he knows the kinds of things that can hide behind it. But what’s he going to do, take Twist’s hands and gaze longingly into his eyes in front of everyone? They’re all already staring. “Hey, sweetheart?”

“what?” Cash snaps, this time at Twist. Whatever. Wouldn’t want anyone to make the mistake of thinking Cash isn’t an asshole.

“Think you could explain?”

“explain what?” For a moment he thinks Twist is telling him to explain why they were holding hands, but that’s stupid. Also, fuck if Cash knows.

“Ya know, how I got like this? The LV treatment, an’ all that shit? I’ve tried maybe three or four times now, an’ I never get the whole story out well enough fer anyone ta know what I'm talkin' 'bout.”

“Is there any chance that might be because of the severe magic depletion?” Blue suggests. “It sounds like you’ve had a really hard time.”

“Understatement of the century, sweetheart." Twist nods. "An’ I’m feelin’ a lot better now, but that don’ mean I’m up ta tellin’ any long stories.”

“it’s not that long, but i’ll take care of it,” Cash grumbles, to avoid a full day of everyone going back and forth about whether Twist can tell a story that makes sense. Which, to be fair, isn’t guaranteed on a good day. “iggy, the royal scientist from twistfell, has been working on a way to get rid of lv. she found a treatment that seemed to be working but didn’t have anyone with high lv to test it on, so this genius,” he points to Twist, who smiles and waves, “volunteered without telling anyone. the treatment burns away the lv in his soul, which apparently feels just the way you’d expect burning away part of your soul to feel. when i realized where he was, i brought him back here and kept him alive until blackberry got home. now it’s just a matter of keeping him alive until the treatment either works or goes away. it'll probably work, but the highest lv it’s treated before him was nine so there's some guessing involved. any questions?”

“Does his HP drop often?” Edge asks. “You seemed quite familiar with the problem and its solution.”

“usually only while a node is dissolving.”

“And what’s a ‘node’?”

“concentrated lv, as far as i understand it. i don’t really know how it works.”

“if it’s a node, it wouldn’t really be a high concentration so much as a point of connection,” Rus interjects. “is lv part of a some kind of network?”

“sure. i don’t know. if you want to talk about the science behind it, ask iggy. the point is, it’s extremely painful and there isn’t much to be done about it. it does produce a lot of heat, so wet towels on twist’s ribs can be helpful. the main thing to do is to make sure you have that injection you saw me give him ready for when the hp alarm goes off. it doesn't always happen but it's often enough. also don’t let him shred his soul and try not to let him scrape layers off of his bones. or yours. he's more concerned about that part.”

“THAT ALL SOUNDS QUITE SERIOUS, WEALTHY-ME.”

“it is. also don’t feed him normal food, only the mixture that’s in the kitchen –”

“My bro made a better kind that don’t taste like ass,” Twist adds.

“great, so feed him that. let’s see, what else. don’t heal him under any circumstances. ever.” He glares at each of them to impress the importance of his message.

“Twist has already made that quite clear.” Edge confirms.

“i assume you actually listened to him, given that his magic isn’t attacking itself.”

“Of course we did. Admittedly, it took a moment to realize the gravity of the situation, but once we knew he was serious, who wouldn’t listen to him?”

Cash glances pointedly at Blackberry. Edge actually growls. Red whistles. “someone’s gonna get a talkin'-to when they’re done with their long winter’s nap.”

“Nope,” Twist chirps, the slightest hint of a threat in his casually cheery voice. “We already had our little chat about that, jus’ him an’ me, an’ it’s none ‘a any ‘a yer business. So drop it.”

“whatever,” Cash grumbles, not entirely proud of how he’s handled quite a few things with Twist, himself, but still irritated with Blackberry. And concerned that it might be an ongoing trend.

“Anyway,” Twist drawls, grin plastered across his face, “what else d’ya need ta know 'bout me? Let’s see, I ferget shit all the time. Might even ferget who ya are, or think yer someone else, so if I start actin’ weird ya might just wanna leave me alone.”

“or _don’t_ leave you alone so you don’t hurt yourself or spend the whole day trapped in a hallucination,” Cash growls. It’s not that he doesn’t understand Twist not wanting to act out his greatest fears or worst memories or whatever those are in front of everyone he knows, but the solution is _not_ to leave Twist alone. That’s a really good way to end up with Twist dead. Or insane. Insane is always an option with the way things are going.

“Water’s good, too.” What a smooth way to change the subject. Not. Also, that’s a terrible explanation. If this is how Twist has been explaining things, no wonder everyone is confused.

“what he means is that you need to always have water available," Cash clarifies. "always. in a water bottle or a cup with a straw so he can easily drink it. node attacks usually leave his mana lines dry, which makes him cough, which makes him unable to breathe, which means someone had better get some water into him the second he stops screaming long enough to drink something.”

“Don’tcha think that’s a little dramatic, darlin’?” Twist asks, frowning.

“no. i’ve seen you nearly suffocate from coughing. don’t downplay your symptoms.”

“I’m not downplayin’ anythin’! I jus’ don’ see any need ta act like I’m on death’s door. Didn’ we already talk about this?”

“You are on death’s door, and yes we did talk about this, and we concluded that you need to tell people when something’s wrong rather than trying to deal with it yourself until you’re dust.”

“Oh.” Twist blinks at him as though he’d said something strange. “Guess we did talk about that, didn’t we, sweetheart? Huh.”

“It is generally prudent to tell the people who are taking care of you while you’re injured or ill if you’re experiencing something that could endanger your life,” Edge adds sardonically.

“Yeah, yeah, like yer one ta talk, Edgelord.”

“he’s got a point, you know,” Rus says. “there’ve been plenty of times i’ve wished you’d tell me when something’s wrong.”

“That’s entirely different!”

“Is not.” Twist smirks.

“That’s enough out of you,” Edge scolds. “The point is that you're injured, we're here to help, and you need to let someone know when you have a problem.”

Twist chuckles. “Okay, Edgelord, fine. I’ll tell everyone whenever I get an ouchie so you c’n come kiss it all better.” He blows Edge a kiss.

“Shut it, mutt,” Edge grumbles, but there’s a smile behind it. This is good. Everyone is caught up on what they need to know, Twist is relaxed and having fun, and there are enough people around that they should all be able to stop each other from doing anything too stupid. Twist might finally be alright. There’s just one more annoying thing to discuss.

“iggy is still involved in twist’s treatment,” he announces. Everyone turns to stare at him. Maybe that needed a little more segue from the previous topic. Whatever. They’re listening. “she wants to keep him in her lab for data collection, but she did a terrible job of taking care of him so i took him home. she’s allowed to examen him weekly, but she’s not allowed to be alone with him. she’s also who you should call when something unexpected happens. she’ll try to get you to take him back to the lab, but she’ll let it go and actually answer your questions after you refuse a few times. if she insists it’s absolutely necessary and i’m not here, call me.”

“Is there a particular reason we should call you?” Edge asks, browbones raised.

“i have some decent leverage over her, and i’m used to dealing with her at this point.”

Edge’s sockets narrow. “And why would that be?”

“why would what be?”

“Why would you be used to dealing with her? For that matter, what leverage do you have over her? How did you even find out about all this in the first place?” Fuck no, he’s not getting into that with Edge.

“i have my sources.”

“Which are what, exactly?”

“none of your business.”

“Hmm. Normally, I’d agree, but at the moment we seem to have Twist injured and at risk of dying from a supposed treatment for LV, from an experiment which is being conducted in a way that I’m not convinced is entirely legal or ethical, which has been kept a secret from everyone but which you somehow know a lot about from sources you refuse to reveal, while you also have some kind of ‘leverage’ over the scientist responsible for the project and insist on being present during any interactions with her. What part of that is ‘none of our business’?”

“the part where it’s none of your business.”

“Pa – uh – Cash? Maybe you should just –”

“it’s none of their business,” Cash snaps.

“Seems like it’d be a lot easier ta – “

“none. of. their. business.” Twist rolls his eyelight, but drops the subject. Edge doesn’t.

“So apparently Twist knows about this and thinks you should share it.”

Twist sighs, like _he's_ the one surrounded by idiots who keep making things harder than they need to be. “Yeah, but ya don’t see me actin’ like it’s somethin’ suspicious, either, do ya?”

“Honestly, that makes me more inclined to suspect both of you.”

“But not in a ‘these guys are evil an’ workin’ against us’ way, more in a ‘these assholes are gonna gimme a headache’ way, right?”

“I actually have no idea.” But his jawbone is twitching into the beginning of a grin, so it seems like Twist has successfully defused the situation.

“maybe we should all take a break,” Slim suggests quietly from right beside Cash, and when the hell did he get there?

“Great idea, sweetheart!” Twist agrees enthusiastically, not seeming particularly in need of a break except that his eyelight is starting to flicker. “How ‘bout you, P – Cash?” Ugh, is he actually starting to miss that stupid nickname? Why did Twist pick now to start calling him what everyone else calls him? And why does he hate it?

“we could take a shift watching twist together,” Slim suggests, because he’s just full of suggestions today. Cash opens mouth to… to what, exactly? Agree? Scoff at such a ridiculous idea? Well obviously he’s not going to do that to Slim, so maybe he should –

Everyone is staring at him. They’re watching him expectantly, like they don’t quite know what to make of him but his next move is going to reveal something important about him that they’ll all know but him. Well fuck that. He steps back from the bed, preparing to leave.

“Cash?” Twist asks. Will he just stop saying that stupid name?! Whatever. He's leaving. “Cash? Twist repeats, and struggles up against the headboard. He makes it maybe six inches above his pillow and looks very unstable.

“lay down, you idiot. you’re going to fall over,” Cash grumbles. Twist, instead of lying down like a normal, sane person, or at least staying where he is, leans towards Cash and then of course keeps leaning because he can’t catch himself and is going to fall out of bed. Cash catches him. “what the fuck are you doing?”

“Dunno.” Twist shrugs from where his face is pressed into Cash's shirt, wrapping his arms around Cash to support himself.

Cash disentangles Twist’s arms from his clothes and lays him back in the bed, then grumbles to the others, “that’s the other thing you all need to watch out for. the idiot can’t stay in bed to save his life.” Twist smiles happily up at him. He must be drifting out again. It’s fine. The others know enough to deal with him now. Cash is leaving.

He teleports back to the bar.

Back at the bar, Cash quickly decides that he’s tired of being at the bar. He doesn’t know where he wants to be, but not here. He reaches for his wallet to pay. It’s not in its normal pocket. He pats the other pockets. It’s not there either. It can’t be at home. He never goes out without money on him. Never. He must have dropped it. Maybe it fell out when he dropped his glass.

He searches the area around his seat. There is no wallet. He enlists the help of the bartender he paid to come in early. Still no wallet. Did someone take it? Who could have? There’s no one in the bar but him and the bartender, and he hasn't been anywhere else except Twist's house. The bartender wouldn’t make the mistake of stealing from him. No one has been close enough to pick his pocket all day, if anyone was even good enough to do it. Absolutely no one, except for… Fuck.

He knows exactly where his wallet is. He's there in an instant.

“**twist!!!**”

Twist grins.


	31. Chapter 31

**“twist!!!”**

Twist grins as Cash appears in his recently-emptied room, yelling his name. It’s been much too long since he’s gotten that reaction.

“Heya, darlin’. How’s it goin’?” he chirps, happy and innocent as can be.

“you know exactly how it’s going,” Cash snaps. “where’s my wallet?”

“Dunno, darlin’. Didja lose it?”

“did i–? i lost it here!”

“Oh. How’d ya manage that? You weren’t here all that long.” And really, if he’s going to keep popping in and out of places every time someone notices he’s slightly less than a completely irredeemable asshole, what does he expect to happen? Things disappear that way.

“i don’t know, twist. how _did_ i manage to lose my wallet while i was standing here letting you fall all over me?”

Slim sticks his head in the doorway and smiles as he meets Twist’s eyes. His part is taken care of. So far he’s been a fantastic babysitter and co-conspirator.

“I can see why yer confused, darlin’. Don’t sound like ya had much of a chance ta lose it while you were here. Sure ya didn’t leave it somewhere else?”

“no i didn’t leave it somewhere else! i had it, then you fell on me, then i didn’t have it anymore. it seems pretty clear what happened.”

“Yer not accusin’ me of takin’ it, are ya, darlin’?” Twist turns the innocence up to full blast. He’s not too bad at it, if he does say so himself, even when the evidence does him no favors.

“of course you took it. anyone who’s ever met you would know you took it. the only question is, where did you put it?”

Twist widens his sockets and pouts. “Now, really, darlin’. I’m hurt. I’m even lit’rally hurt, an’ yer gonna go accusin’ me of stealin’ yer wallet? What would I even do with it if I had it?” If everyone’s going to be worrying about him all the time, he might as well see if he can get a little mileage out of it. It worked with the falling out of bed thing.

“like you need a reason to steal my things? where is it?”

“Dunno, sweetheart. I don’t have it, and I’m not sure where ya think I coulda put it.”

“if you won’t tell me, i’ll find it myself,” Cash growls, then begins a thorough search of the area around the bed. Some places make sense, like under the pillows or inside the new holes in the mattress, but other places seem like a bit of a stretch.

“Pretty sure I’d fall on my face ‘fore I managed ta get that drawer open, darlin’.” Not that it’s not entertaining to watch Cash dig through the drawers of his nightstand, muttering all the while as he pulls out all the random crap Twist has stashed in there.

“i’m not putting anything past you,” Cash grumbles, tossing aside some yarn and an old spring that probably belonged to something once.

“Flattering as that is, don’tcha think if I could reach down that low, I could probly get outta bed and find a better hiding place?”

Cash pauses his search to glare up at Twist suspiciously, then his gaze darts around the room.

Twist snorts. “Seriously, sweetheart, ya really think I’d be spendin’ all this time in bed if I could climb out of it any time I pleased?”

“you end up on the floor often enough.”

“Yeah, and then I’m stuck there ‘til someone picks me up. C’mon, darlin’. Ya know I got maybe a foot of reach past the edge of this bed, an’ that’s if I really work for it. Where do ya think I coulda hid yer wallet that ya didn’t already look?”

“i don’t know, but i’m going to find it.” Twist shakes his head, smiling at the determination. Trust Patches to never give up on finding his money.

“I’m sure ya will, but since yer not havin’ much luck right now, how ‘bout ya take a break an’ hang out with me ‘n Slim fer awhile?”

Cash startles. “slim’s here?”

“Lookin’ right atcha.” Twist nods to the doorway.

Cash follows his gaze, still scowling. Slim smiles sweetly at him. Cash blushes and looks away, losing the scowl. Slim steps into the room and crouches down next to Cash, then very casually starts putting Twist’s stuff back in his drawers. Cash joins him without comment. Before long the room is back in as much order as it ever was, at least if no one looks inside the drawers.

“thanks for helping clean up,” Slim says very softly.

“no problem,” Cash answers, before doing a double take and scowling. Time for Twist to intervene.

“Hey Pa-Cash,” got to break that habit. Being too touchy-feely keeps scaring Cash away. “Think ya could get me some more water? I’m almost out, and I’m feelin’ kinda dizzy.” In an instant, the angry scowl is gone, replaced by a worried scowl. Honestly, he’s as bad as Blackberry when it comes to thinking any little problem is going to turn Twist to dust.

“why didn’t you say something earlier? you’ve got to tell people when you have a problem.”

“I know, I know, I jus’ fergot.” Which is true, mainly because it was much too entertaining to watch Cash take his room apart searching for a wallet he isn’t going to find.

“sure you did. i’ll get you some more.” Cash grabs Twist’s latest water bottle, which is mostly empty. “stay in bed.” Cash then turns to Slim, who's been watching the whole thing more innocently than Twist could ever manage. “keep him in bed.” Slim nods earnestly, so Cash stomps downstairs.

As soon as Cash is out of sight, Slim stands and smiles triumphantly down at Twist. Twist grins and sticks a hand out from under his blanket for a high five.

***

Cash grumbles as he fills the water bottle in the sparkling clean kitchen. Someone has obviously worked on it recently, which isn’t surprising with Edge, Papyrus, and Blue all together in the house. What is surprising is that they’re all gone. What did they do, decide they were all too busy to help Twist and leave Slim to do all the work? <strike>Like Cash is one to talk about leaving Twist.</strike>

Heading back up with the water, he’s relieved to see no signs of any disasters occurring in the minute or so that he was gone. Twist is miraculously still in bed and Slim has settled in the armchair. It looks like everything is fine.

“here’s your water.” He hands the water bottle to Twist, who accepts it eagerly.

“Thanks, sweetheart!” Twist gulps down half the bottle. Cash sighs.

“how many times do i have to tell you to tell me when you need something?”

Twist shrugs. “As many times as it takes fer me ta remember I need somethin’, I guess.”

“you forgot you were thirsty?” Slim asks, worried.

“Yeah. ‘s not as weird as it sounds. Nothin’ feels right, so it’s hard ta remember when any particular feelin’ matters.”

“which has caused a lot of problems.”

“Not that many!” Oh no he is not getting away with that.

“is that supposed to be a joke? i can’t even count the number of times you’ve been dehydrated or in unnecessary pain or fighting off a flashback and just kept going like everything was perfectly fine.”

“What’d’ya want, a running list of all the ways I feel like shit?” Twist’s sockets narrow in irritation. “Let’s see, my bones kinda sting where I’ve scratched ‘em down ta the marrow, my joints ache and they still feel kinda wobbly, the inside ‘a my ribs are a little charred, I haven’t stopped bein’ dizzy since I spent half of yesterday with acid eatin’ through my soul, an' my soul kinda burns, 'cause 'a all that acid, ya know. I’m pretty sure I know where I am and who ya both are but that could change at any time. I can’t see too well, and I’m gettin’ pretty bored just layin’ in bed all the time. That enough of a list for ya?”

Cash opens his mouth to snap something back about that being exactly the kind of thing Twist should tell them about, but Slim beats him to it.

“c-can i hug you?”

Twist frowns. “Yeah, darlin’. ‘Course you can hug me.”

Slim leans down next to Twist and wraps his arms around him with exceeding care. Twist returns the hug and pats his back.

“Not that I mind, but what’s all this about?”

Slim just holds him tighter. At a loss, Twist looks to Cash for help. Cash is happy to explain it to the oblivious idiot.

“he’s probably upset because you just told us half a dozen ways you’re in agony in order to justify why none of them are important enough to tell us about.”

Slim nods, face still pressed against Twist’s ribs.

Twist blinks. “Oh.” He pats Slim's skull. “Oh, sweetheart, it ain’t all that bad. I was just playin’ everythin’ up fer Cash ‘cause he keeps buggin’ me ‘bout telling him about my problems. None 'a that shit really matters.”

Slim raises his skull to look at Twist intently. “are you saying you made it up?”

“No, it’s just –”

“then it matters.”

Twist sighs. “Aw, sweetheart. What ‘m I even s’posed ta do with you?” He turns to Cash. “And you. Why ya gotta go bringin’ things up that‘re just gonna upset people? Aren’t ya still s’posed ta be mad about me stealin’ yer wallet?”

“slim is upset because you’re hurt, not because we’re talking about you being hurt. and i haven’t forgotten about my wallet, but you’re not going to use it to distract me.”

“I dunno, ya might not like what I’ve done with it. Maybe I –”

“twist. i don’t give a fuck about my wallet. i can get another wallet. i can’t get another you. and fuck you for making me say that.” Fuck. This is why he disappeared for most of the past three days. Twist keeps saying shit that makes it really fucking obvious he doesn’t think anything that happens to him matters, and Cash can’t just mind his own damn business and ignore it. He needs to get out of here. But Twist is looking at him like he just rocked his whole world and Slim is smiling at him like he just did something amazing and he can’t just fuck off to nowhere because look what happened the last time he did. He’s fucked. Also, Twist still has his wallet.

Twist rubs a hand between his sockets. “Look, sweetheart. Uh, both of you. I’m fine.” Cash and Slim both open their mouths to object, but Twist holds up a hand to stop them. “I know I’m not really fine, and I’m not sayin’ I am. What I’m sayin’ is, I don’ care how much this treatment fucks me up. I’ve toldja before, Cash, an’ I’m tellin’ ya both now, that it’s worth it. Remember why I’m doin’ this?”

Slim nods. “to get rid of your lv.”

“That’s right, darlin’. Now, I get that yer worried ‘bout me. Wish ya wouldn’t be, but I get why ya are. That’s why I wanted ta keep it a secret ‘til it was all worked out, but _someone_ decided I needed ta be tucked away in my own safe little bed at home.”

“because everything was going so well for you before i found you.”

Twist nods. “It didn’t really go ta plan and I ended up causin’ everyone a lot more trouble and worry than I meant to. Sorry ‘bout that.” Self-sacrificing idiot.

“don’t apologize for me rescuing you from a mad scientist's lab.”

“She’s not a mad scientist,” Twist insists.

Not this again. “she pretty much tortured you.”

Slim wraps his arms more tightly around Twist, who glances pointedly at Cash.

“Can we stop makin’ everything sound worse than it is? Ya got Slim thinkin’ I’m traumatized er somethin’.”

“you are ‘traumatized er somethin’’.” If Twist is going to go there, they might as well go all the way there. “if not from this, then from something else.”

Twist laughs. “Ya gotta give up on that accent, darlin’. It’s not workin’ for ya and it never will.”

“stop changing the subject.” He’s starting to remember why taking care of Twist wore him out so quickly.

“Don’t know that we got a subject ta be changing. One minute yer taking my room apart lookin’ fer yer wallet, and the next yer gettin’ Slim all worried over nothin’.” Nothing! He’s always saying it’s nothing, and he wonders why they’re worried! “Look, this all got real dark, real fast. Can we just leave it at I’m gettin’ rid of my LV and the way ta do it kinda sucks ass but gives me plenty a free time ta spend with my favorite people?”

“right, because i’m one of your favorite people.”

“I keep tryin’ ta get you back here, don’t I?”

“for some unfathomable reason, yes. that or you just have an unhealthy obsession with stealing my wallet.”

“What can I say? It’s the most fun I’ve had all day, and it got ya back here, didn’t it?”

“because i’m just a treat to have around.”

“Yep! Slim thinks so too, don’tcha, darlin’?”

Slim nods.

“you’re both ridiculous.” They both smile. Slim finally stops clinging to Twist and slumps into the armchair. “and to think i actually thought you had some sense,” Cash says to Slim. Slim hides his face in his hood, but doesn’t lose the smile.

“So, gonna stick around fer awhile?” Twist asks with studied casualness. It's like he wants Cash to stay.

“like i have a choice? every time i leave, this place turns into a disaster.”

Twist nods. “That it does. Guess yer stuck with us, then. Least you should stick around fer the rest of Slim’s shift.”

“his shift?”

“Yep. Everyone’s gonna take turns bein’ my babysitter. Hopefully that way we can avoid anyone stayin’ up fer three days straight.”

Thank the stars someone finally came up with a sensible plan. It was probably Edge, much as Cash hates to admit it. He can usually pass for sensible. More than the others, at least. On that subject…

“where’s blackberry, anyway?”

“In bed. Papyrus put him there before he left, and that’s where he’s stayin’,” Twist declares firmly.

“ah.” The others really have been making themselves useful. Maybe the whole treatment thing is actually going to work out now.

“so you are staying?” Slim asks, folding his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“yes. apparently this idiot needs me.”

Slim beams. “great!” Then he pulls Cash’s wallet out of his pocket. Cash’s jaw drops.

“you! but – you!" Cash glares at Twist. "how did you put him up to this?”

“up to what?” Slim laughs. He flat out laughs about it! Out loud! “all i did was hold on to this lovely new wallet twist found.” He holds it up to admire it. Cash snatches it away.

“give me that! how long have you had this?”

Slim shrugs.

“you - no. you’re not the one responsible for this.” Cash glares at Twist. “you. you had me searching your whole damn room, digging through your drawers, knowing the whole time that it wasn’t there. you knew!”

“And I said so, didn’t I?” Twist chuckles. “Toldja it wasn’t there.”

“you also told me you didn’t know where it was, which couldn’t have been a more obvious lie if you tried.”

“But it wasn’t a lie. I just gave it ta Slim. Didn’t ask him what he did with it, an’ he never told me. Didja, darlin’?”

Slim shakes his head.

“you! both of you! why?!” Twist opens his mouth. “not you. you i get. no, actually i don’t think i’ll ever understand a single thought in your empty skull, but you stealing my shit is hardly out of character and i should have expected it. but slim! since when are you in collusion with him?” If there was anyone he thought he could trust not to try to steal his shit, it was Slim.

“since we need you here and you keep leaving,” Slim responds solemnly. “and since we want you to stay.”

“since –!?” Fuck. How did Twist infect Slim with his ‘saying things he’s not supposed to say’ problem? How is Cash supposed to respond to that?

Slim smiles slyly, not even bothering to hide it in his hood. “and since it was pretty funny watching you take twist’s room apart.”

Twist cracks up at that.

“i take everything back. you’re both assholes.” And with that, Cash gives up and flops down on the end of the bed, wallet in hand. It’s going to be a long shift.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it will all end in fluff someday. Just not this day.

“so… we just watch him sleep?” Slim asks. Not that he minds sitting around watching Twist, but Twist-sitting was a lot more interesting when Twist was awake.

“yeah. what’d you think we’d be doing?” Cash asks from the end of the bed. He hasn't bothered to move.

Slim shrugs, conceding the point. He doesn’t really know what he expected when he volunteered for the first shift of watching Twist, maybe that they’d hang out, watch a movie or something. The thing with the wallet was quintessential Twist-style entertainment, and couldn’t have done a better job of getting Cash back here besides, but it wasn’t long after that that Twist’s sockets started drooping. Slim was worried for a minute, remembering what it meant the last time Twist seemed to be falling asleep, but they checked him and his HP was fine. Now they're just waiting. “how long do you think he’ll sleep?”

“not long.”

“you sure?”

“wish i wasn’t. he needs the sleep, but nightmares will probably wake him up, unless things have changed a lot in the past couple of days.”

“that sucks.”

“yeah.”

They both watch Twist in silence for awhile. It could almost pass as peaceful, in a weird way. Maybe nightmares are coming, but for now Twist looks pretty content, curled up with his blanket. It’s kind of cute. Doesn’t seem all that Twist-like, though. Twist should be sprawled out across the bed, taking over the whole space like he does in every other part of his life. It’s weird to see him curled up so small. Disturbing, actually, especially with the shadows beneath his sockets. They really make the cracks stand out. It makes him look sick and hurt. He _is_ sick and hurt.

“do you really think this lv thing’s going to work?”

“yes.”

“how do you know?”

“it’s worked before.”

It would really be nice to know how Cash knows that, but Slim isn’t going to push him into talking. Twist is fine with it, so that’s good enough for Slim. Besides, it's Cash. He's way more likely to hide something that might make him look like a good guy than anything bad he might have done.

Twist really doesn't look too good. It's nothing Slim can put a finger on; he just doesn't look as relaxed and comfortable as he did when he first fell asleep. “sure there’s nothing he needs us to do?”

“not until something goes wrong.” Well that sure sounds hopeful.

“so we just wait, then?”

“yeah.”

“okay.” Slim settles in to wait. That’s one thing he’s good at.

***

Slim is just starting to think about putting on some music when he notices Twist watching him. He tries a smile.

“hey, twist.”

Twist doesn’t respond.

Cash sits up and frowns at Twist. “twist? you with us?”

Twist slowly blinks, then startles, pressing back into the pillow. “‘m awake!”

Cash's frown deepens. “great, but are you with us?”

“I don’…” Twist turns to look at Cash, then looks back at Slim. “Where’s she keep gettin’ you all from?” His voice is calm, if a little perplexed, but his claws dig into his metacarpals.

“huh?” Slim reaches for Twist’s hands to keep him from hurting himself, but stops at Cash’s emphatic headshake.

“don’t touch him.”

“okay. why?”

“he doesn’t know who we are.”

“oh.” Slim lets his hands fall to his sides, not knowing what else to do.

“Am I s’posed ta know who ya are?” Twist asks, skepticism clear.

Cash sighs, rubbing between his sockets. “you usually do,” He sounds more resigned than concerned, so maybe Twist forgetting his friends’ existence isn’t as big a deal as it seems like it should be? Maybe? But it really does seem like a problem.

“If ya say so.” Twist shrugs, then mutters, “So sick ‘a this bullshit.”

“what bullshit?” Slim asks.

Twist flinches. “Nothin’!” Then he smiles. “Nothin’, sweetheart. Jus’ talkin’ ta myself. Buncha crap ya don’ need ta worry ‘bout.”

“uh huh.” Slim looks to Cash again, hoping for some help. Cash shrugs, as lost as Slim is, but at least he tries.

“you do know us. you just keep forgetting about it. temporary amnesia or something.”

“Right.” Twist presses a hand against his skull, wincing. “Guess ya might have some ground ta stand on with the mem’ry thing. Still think I’d remember meetin’ a coupla new skeletons. We just ain’t that common." He shakes his skull, then wipes the wince off his face before looking back at Cash. "Seriously, sweetheart, where’d ya come from? I gotta know.” He does actually sound interested. Maybe Cash can just fill him in and everything will be fine.

“it’s a long story. it involves alternate universes.”

“Oh.” Twist deflates. “More ‘n my thick skull’s gonna get, then.”

“not really. it’s just –”

“Look, darlin’, let’s just get this over with. My skull’s fucked, as you’ve rightly pointed out, so if yer expectin’ me ta suddenly figure out what ya want, yer gonna be waitin’ a long time.”

“i don’t want anything. just –”

“Then why’re ya here?” Twist frowns, then his expression softens. “Wait, do ya even wanna be here? Or was I righter ‘n I knew when I asked where she got ya from? I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try ta help ya out as best I can.” He includes Slim in his compassionate gaze. “Both a ya.” Now he’s worried about them? What's he talking about?

Cash scowls. “what? no. that’s not – we’re fine. and you’re fine. finer than you think you are, at least.”

Twist nods, still sounding sympathetic. “That attitude’s got its merits, sweetheart. Hope it works out for ya. Gotta be careful with it, though, or you could end up makin’ some mistakes that’ll cost ya.”

Cash rubs the space between his sockets. “twist. listen. you don’t know what’s going on. i do. remember the amnesia?”

Twist tries to raise himself up on his elbows but falls back before his skull makes it few inches off the pillow. “Think it’d take more ‘n a little amnesia ta make this situation look anythin’ but fucked,” he states wryly.

Cash shakes his head. “you’d be surprised. look, you think you work for a monster named muffet, right? and you hate her?” He does? That’s news to Slim, and kind of unsettling, but monsters can be very different across universes.

Twist’s sockets darken. “Don’t see how that’s any a yer business, sweetheart.”

“it’s my business because you’ve told me about it.”

Twist snorts. “Right. I ain’t the brightest guy around, but I do know better ‘n ta go around talkin’ shit about the boss ta random assholes I never met in my life.”

“maybe not while she actually was your boss, but she hasn’t been for a long time. we all live on the surface now and your only boss is some mechanic whose name i don’t know. we’ve had this conversation several times already.”

Twist shakes his head. “Gotta say, this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever tried ta… actually, what are ya even tryin’ ta do?”

“help you figure out what’s going on.”

“Nope. Try again, sweetheart.”

At a loss, Cash looks to Slim. Like Slim has any ideas?

“we’re really just trying to help you.” Which probably isn’t any more convincing than when it came from Cash. “we’re your friends.”

“Can’t say that makes too great a case fer bein’ able ta trust ya, darlin’." Twist shrugs. "And o’course there’s the little problem of me never havin’ seen ya before in my life.”

“you saw me right before you went to sleep.”

A grin spreads across Twist’s face as his gaze travels up and down Slim’s body. “So we’re _that_ kinda friends, huh? Can’t say I’d mind that too much.” Slim honestly wouldn’t mind it either, but now really isn’t the time to get into it. “And what about you, darlin’?” Twist asks Cash. “Just here ta take a peek, or is this mysterious ‘friendship’ I don’ remember a threesome?”

“neither, asshole. you’re in no more shape to fuck anyone than you are to get out of bed and dance around the room.”

Twist loses his grin and cocks his head. “Well that’s part of the problem, ain’t it? You two keep insistin’ yer here ta help me, but as far as I c'n tell yer both just hoverin’ around spoutin’ all sorts ‘a random bullshit ev’ry time I ask a question, while I’m stuck in bed an’ can’t do much more ‘n lift my head. See why that’d make a guy a bit suspicious?”

Cash and Slim share a look. He has a point, but what are they supposed to do about it? Going along with whatever he thinks is happening seems like a bad idea.

“look,” Cash tries again. “we’ve been through this before. you forget things, then we have a confusing conversation like this, then eventually you remember and try to pretend like whatever very concerning detail I just learned about your past means nothing, and then we all move on until the next time you forget everything. can we just avoid doing anything too drastic and wait for you to remember?”

“Fine by me, sweetheart. I got nowhere ta be, far as I know.” Twist’s latest carefree grin is almost enough to obscure the wince that flickers across his face. Almost.

“great,” Cash grumbles. He considers his spot at the end of the bed for a moment, glances warily at Twist’s feet, then settles for flopping down on the floor, far out of kicking distance. Twist raises a browbone but doesn’t comment.

“So, what’re we gonna do in the meantime while we wait ta see if my memory’s shot or yer both just full a shit?” Twist’s voice is casual, but his face only tightens.

“nothing, i guess,” Cash grumbles from the floor.

“Well that’s no fun. What about that threesome we were talkin’ ‘bout earlier?”

“how exactly do you think you could manage a threesome?”

“I’ll have you know I’m fantastic at threesomes! Nothin’ but good reports. Be happy ta show ya, darlin’.” The fake offense at someone doubting his sexual prowess almost makes everything seem normal, but Twist’s face just keeps getting tighter. His hands are clenched, too. It doesn't fit.

“twist?” Slim tries to keep his voice gentle but also fairly neutral. Twist isn't likely to appreciate a show of concern at the moment.

“Hmm?” Without the offended act, Twist’s voice sounds tense too, maybe pained.

“are you hurt?”

Twist shrugs. “Apparently, sweetheart. I ain’t just stayin’ in bed all day fer fun.” He visibly forces his face to relax, but can’t quite lose the furrow between his browbones or the stiffness in his jaw. Something is wrong.

“no, i mean, is something hurting you right now? you look like you’re in pain.”

“what?” Cash demands, rising from the floor. “let me see.”

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout,” Twist grits out, before forcefully un-gritting his teeth. He even grins again. Why is he doing that?

“we’ve been over this,” Cash snaps. “stop lying about being hurt.”

“What, so ya don’t miss the chance ta get yer rocks off on it? Sorry, sweetheart, nothin’ ta see here. I’m fine.” Twist’s shaky voice belies that statement, as if everything else about him wasn’t already doing that.

“no you’re not! and why would you think… no, i get it. you don’t know who we are so you don’t want to show us any weakness, but maybe consider that you’re already trapped in bed and we aren’t, so if we wanted to hurt you we easily could have already done that.”

“Don’t mean ya wouldn’t take –” Twist’s voice chokes off.

“twist?” That sounded bad. Something’s really wrong.

“Fuck off,” Twist chokes out, a hint of a whimper sneaking in at the end.

“tell us what’s wrong so we can help you,” Cash snaps, which seems a little too optimistic to Slim, but what does he know? Either way, Twist isn’t having it.

“Fuck you,” Twist snarls. It might have been more effective if his breath wasn’t hovering on the edge of sobbing.

“will you just tell me where it hurts, you fucking bastard?” Cash snarls back. Twist flinches, then glares. No one knows what to do.

“please just answer him.” But why would Twist listen to Slim any more than Cash? At the moment he doesn't trust either one of them.

Twist doesn’t even respond, just curls inward. At first it seems like maybe they should just let him, until Slim looks closer and sees what he’s doing to his ribs. He’s not just scratching them. He’s digging his claws in hard. Really hard. There's a hairline fracture spreading across one of the ribs. It's going to break!

“stop that! you’re hurting yourself.” Unthinking, Slim grabs Twist’s hands like he’s seen Cash do, but this time Twist isn’t just hurt, he’s angry. He thinks he's defending himself. He stabs his claws right into Slim’s metacarpels with furious intent. Bones snap.

Slim screams as his HP plummets.


	33. Chapter 33

Slim screams as his HP plummets.

For an instant that feels like eternity he stares at his own broken hand through fracturing vision. Bones crumble to dust around Twist’s claws as his life drains away. That’s it. It’s over, just like that.

Then Twist’s claws pull away and healing magic engulfs Slim's hand, forcing its way through crumbling mana lines as Cash holds him tightly, chasing the wave of vicious intent that rips through his body, filling every shattered gap with desperate need/_<strike>love</strike>_/sheer **determination** that it won’t all end like this in one stupid mistake. Then Slim breathes and knows he’s alive.

The moments after that are a blur. The world slides sideways, not into dust but just into shock as his mind tries to process what just happened. Twist just… And Slim was… was…

“slim? slim!? slim, answer me!” Cash’s voice finally penetrates the haze.

“i’m okay.” Slim chokes out before he knows it’s true, but it is true. He is okay. He’ll be okay. He wouldn’t be if Cash had been half a second slower, but he’s okay. He’s alive. “i’m okay.”

“are you sure?” Slim nods. “thank the fucking stars.” Cash buries his face in Slim’s shirt. “how’s your hand?” Slim holds it up inspect, not really sure what to say about it. Cash grabs it <strike>Slim suppresses a flinch</strike> and runs his thumb along the inflamed, partially healed breaks. “oh fuck, i didn’t know he’d do that. he grabs my hands all the time but never with any fucking _intent_. oh fuck. oh fuck you could have died.” Cash cradles Slim’s hand against his own ribcage. It feels kind of nice. Reassuring. Like he didn’t almost die.

Slim almost died. Twist almost killed him. He’s going to be so upset. Slim almost died.

“are you sure you’re okay?” Cash checks him. He probably already did that, but he does it again. Understandable. Slim can’t quite believe he's alive, either.

“i’m sure i’m okay.” His hand aches a little, or maybe a lot, but now isn’t the time to bring it up. Cash squeezes him tighter, at which point he finally realizes Cash is hugging him. He pats Cash’s back. “i really am okay. you got me in time.”

Cash presses his face back into Slim’s shirt and breathes in deeply. “i got you in time. it wasn’t too late.”

“that’s right. now i’m safe.” Which is great and all, and still kind of hard to process, but, “what about twist?”

“oh _fuck_.”

Twist looks bad. He’s curled up even tighter than he was before and his ribs are dripping blood, magic, and marrow. His soul is glowing brightly. He’s also covered in sweat.

“this is a node,” Cash states flatly, letting go of Slim to carefully approach Twist. “see, his soul’s burning. i shouldn’t have wasted time asking what was wrong.”

A node, right. Cash talked about those. They cause a lot of pain, which is why Twist was feeling defensive, which is why he _broke Slim’s fucking hand_ – stop. Focus. Twist is hurt. “never mind that. we’ve got to get his claws away from his ribs.”

“not with our bare hands.”

“then with what? a stick or something?” It seems surreal to be standing around discussing how to keep Twist from breaking his own ribs without Twist killing either of them.

“we need to cool him off anyway. we’ll wrap some of the towels for the ice water around his hands. don’t touch him.” Then Cash leaves, and it’s just Slim and Twist.

Standing around watching Twist suffer sucks. Twist is miserable, obviously. He doesn’t scream, but it would almost be better if he did. He just lies there silently, jaw clenched and eyelight blown wide, hands tight against his ribs. The rattling of his bones fills the room. It’s enough to pull Slim partway out of his shock, enough that he wants so badly to go to Twist, to find a better way to help. He just wants to help. At least to make Twist stop hurting himself, but – <strike>claws so fast and strong break his own with such fury such intent</strike> no. Bad idea. Wait for Cash. But Twist is hurting.

“twist?” Twist flinches and lets out a strangled whine. “sorry, it’s just me. just slim.” Twist doesn’t seem reassured. Not that Slim would be able to tell if he was. He just wants to help, but he has to stay away. He’s not good with words. “okay, i’ll just… be quiet, i guess.” Twist whimpers and clenches his jaw tighter. Hopefully it won’t crack <strike>like Slim’s hand did.</strike>

Twist goes back to trying to dig down to his own marrow after that, and has made pretty good progress by the time Cash returns. Cash winces at the sight. “shit.” Then he’s all business as he sets down the water bowl and pulls a big towel out of the pile. “here’s the plan. i’ll catch his hands in this towel and then you’re going to use the rest of the towels to wipe down his ribs. we’ve got to get rid of some of that heat. then we’ll see what else we can do.”

“okay.” Slim takes a deep breath in preparation.

“he’ll probably lose it when i get his hands. don’t let him knee you or bite you or something.”

“you either.” Twist whines again and digs his claws further into his ribs. They both wince as something cracks. “let’s go.”

For all their planning, the actual implementation is pretty easy. Twist gives a pitiful cry when his hands are captured but doesn’t fight them. He writhes against the bed and watches them both in terror as Cash keeps a firm hold on his hands and Slim tries to wipe down his ribs without catching the towels on the deep scratches, but his arms stay very still. Unnaturally still. He has to be keeping them that way on purpose. Slim has the sinking feeling that Twist knows exactly why they’ve trapped his hands.

That’s a disaster for later, though. For now, his only job is to cool Twist’s ribs off. And not hurt him worse. Which he completely fails at when the towel catches on a small piece of splintered bone <strike>oh fuck Twist managed to splinter his own bones he hurt himself so badly and that’s not even getting into how he’ll react to hurting _Slim_</strike>. Twist screams. Like a dam breaking, that scream shatters whatever self-control stopped him from screaming up until now. He doesn’t stop screaming. He does stop the desperate writhing, which makes it a lot easier to keep the towels in place. Not that it makes up for the screaming.

Cash relaxes a little once Twist starts screaming. “i think he made it worse by trying to hide it,” he explains in response to Slim’s questioning look.

“so you’re saying this is a good thing?” It sure doesn’t seem like a good thing. Nothing does right now.

“better than him tearing his ribs apart.”

Slim nods, and keeps working on Twist’s ribs, trying to tune out the screaming. The damage is sickening, especially considering that he did it to himself. And maybe tried to do it to Slim. Can’t forget that part. “how long do you think this will last?”

“i have no idea.”

“do you think it’s safe to take the towel off his hands?”

“i don’t know.”

Slim nods.

As it turns out, the screaming lasts for about ten minutes before trailing off into gasps and whimpers. As soon as Twist’s breathing evens out enough not to choke, Cash sticks a straw in his mouth and orders him to drink. Twist takes a few sips before letting the straw fall out of his mouth and turning his head away.

“twist?” Cash asks. Twist flinches. Cash starts to unwrap the towel from his hands.

Twist pulls his hands away, towel and all. “Go away.” His voice is hoarse but determined.

“we’re not going to hurt you.”

“Not you.” Slim and Cash meet each other’s eyes. There are a lot of things that statement could mean, none of them good.

“do you remember who we are?” Cash asks.

“Yeah.” That rules out one of the easier possibilities.

“then why…?” Twist’s eyelight darts to Slim and then away.

“i’m okay.” Slim reassures, hoping it’s enough, knowing it won’t be.

“No thanks ta me.”

“you didn’t mean to hurt me,” Slim tries.

“Did.”

“did not.”

Twist turns his head back to Slim just long enough to look pointedly at his hand, which admittedly isn’t feeling the greatest. It doesn’t change Slim’s point. “you didn’t mean to hurt _me._”

“Same result.” Twist turns away again.

“the result is that i’m still alive.”

“thanks ta cash.”

“yeah, thanks to cash. if cash hadn’t been there, this would be a different conversation, but he was there and i’m fine.”

“Wouldn’ be a conversation, sweetheart.”

“guess not, but here we are.” What else is he supposed to say? He’s not good with words. He was also almost dusted ten minutes ago. He needs a nap.

Blood glints on Twist’s ribs. They can’t be left like that. “we need to take care of your ribs.”

Twist shrugs.

“cash, do you know where they keep the first aid stuff?”

“yeah, i’ll go get it.” Cash steps away from the bed.

“No!” Twist screams, terror on his face. It triggers a coughing fit, which changes the terror to agony.

“shit!” Cash shoves the straw back into Twist’s mouth. Twist desperately gulps the water until it’s empty. “what was that about?” Cash asks when Twist can breathe again.

“Don’ leave.”

“thought you wanted us to go away.”

“Both a ya.”

“you want both of us to go away, but you don’t want us to leave?”

Slim gets what Twist is trying to say. “he wants us to either both leave or both stay.”

“why…? fuck.” Cash rubs between his sockets. “you’re not going to hurt anyone.”

“Could.”

“no, you really couldn’t. right now you can’t even get your hands out of a towel.”

“Haven’t tried.”

“then try it. see how well it works.”

“Not gonna.”

“fine, then. stay in a towel. either way, you’re not going to hurt either of us.”

“‘m dang’rous.”

“how are you dangerous?”

“Hurt Slim.”

Cash’s frustration isn’t going to help anyone, so Slim tries.

“twist, that was an accident. you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Did mean to. I remember.”

“you didn’t realize –”

“Yer bones cracked an’ crumbled an’ then ya screamed an’ I realized who ya were but it was too late,” Twist snaps.

“fuck.” That was the worst possible time for him to come back to himself.

“Yeah. So don’ leave. Or both of ya leave. But not one.”

“what do you suggest we do instead?” Cash asks with arms crossed. “you’ve pretty much destroyed your ribs. cleaning and wrapping them is the bare minimum at this point. and no, we’re not going to both leave, because we’re not leaving you alone.”

“Don’ matter.”

“what doesn’t matter?”

“My ribs.”

“bullshit. with the shape your magic is in, at this rate you’re not going to have any ribs left.”

“’s okay.” Cash and Slim exchange glances. What do you even say to that?

“what the fuck, twisted?” Cash manages. “it’s not okay for you to not have ribs. i’m done talking about this. slim, watch him. i’m getting bandages.” With that, he heads out the door.

“Nononononono, please don’ go, please Patches, please!” Magic wells up in Twist’s broken socket as Cash walks out. Slim hates to see him so upset, but what can he do about it?

“he’ll be back in a minute. it’s okay.” He reaches towards Twist to offer some kind of comfort.

“Back off!” Twist snarls.

Slim is across the room before he realizes he teleported, lightning-fast claws flashing through his mind. He falls back against the wall, shaking.

Twist whimpers. “Sorry. ‘m so sorry.”

What was that? Why is he shaking? He needs to stop. He needs to take care of Twist.

Twist is still apologizing. “’m sorry. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry, so sorry, so stupid, didn’t mean ta, shoulda known better, gotta… gotta have more control, I know it, so fuckin’ stupid an’ now I hurt ya. Didn’t… don’ wanna… ‘m sorry.” Magic drips from his broken socket. That’s probably bad. Slim should help. Twist is shaking just like Slim is. Slim needs to help.

“it’s okay.”

“Sorrysorrysorry ‘m so stupid, ‘s pathetic, should have better control by now but I don’t so ya jus’ gotta – jus’ stay away. Ever’one’s jus’ gotta stay away.”

“hey, i said it’s okay. twist, listen, i said it’s okay.”

“Not okay. I can’t… shouldn’ta…” He’s not listening and he’s not going to listen. That would require believing that he didn’t do anything wrong, which Twist isn’t going to believe, especially after Slim teleported across the room when he yelled. What can he say that Twist might listen to?

“i forgive you, okay?” Twist’s sockets widen in shock. “i forgive you for hurting me. we’re going to be okay.”

“But… but I hurt ya. Coulda killed ya.” Okay. He’s arguing instead of apologizing. Slim can work with that.

“yeah, but just listen. can you listen to me for a minute?” Twist nods, sockets still wide. “good. okay, first, i’m still alive, so you didn’t kill me. can we agree on that much?”

“Yeah, but –”

“no buts. i’m absolutely, 100% alive. see, no dust. not a speck.” He holds out his hand for Twist to inspect. It’s a risk, because there are still inflamed lines where the breaks were, but Twist seems satisfied at the lack of dust.

“now, you did hurt me. you broke two bones in my hand.”

“Sorry.”

“apology accepted. now, i’ve had broken bones before. that’s not a big deal.”

“’cept where it almost dusted ya.”

Slim nods. “right. we’re getting to that. the problem, which i assume is what you’re upset about, is the intent.”

Twist nods and opens his mouth to speak, but Slim holds up a hand to stop him. “just hear me out. when you grabbed my hand, did you know it was me?”

“No, but –”

“do you know who you thought i was?”

“No, sweetheart, but listen, that’s no excuse fer –”

“did you even know why you were hurt?”

“No, but that’s not –”

“so as far as you knew, a complete stranger, who you were already suspicious of, tried to touch you when you were in terrible pain that you didn’t know the cause of, and kept trying to touch you after you already told them to fuck off?”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’ta –”

“twist. what would a reasonable person do in that situation?”

“I dunno. I jus’ can’t –”

“wanna know what i’d do? i’d kill the asshole who kept touching me. how about you, cash?”

“same here,” Cash states from where he’s been leaning against the doorframe.

Twist looks between them with wide eyes. “But ya both – I can’t do that. Ya know I can’t. I can’t jus’ _react_ when somethin’ pisses me off. I can’t! ‘specially not with you two.”

Cash scoffs, carrying a pile of bandages into the room. “that wasn’t just something pissing you off. that was you being hurt and scared out of your mind. you can’t control what you do when you aren’t in your right mind.”

“But i gotta!”

“no you don’t. not right now. right now it’s our job to keep everyone safe. your job is to stay alive with at least as much sanity as you started with. you’re not helping anyone by taking on unnecessary guilt and refusing to let us close enough to take care of you.”

“But what if it happens again?”

“it’s our job to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Twist scowls. “Seems like it’d be my job, too, darlin’.”

“you’re already doing that. or are you telling me that you don’t work every day to make sure that you’re never in a situation where you might kill someone?”

“I used ta, ‘til I signed myself up fer this bullshit treatment.”

“which you did in order to get rid of your lv so you wouldn’t have to worry about it taking over, right?”

“Yeah, but –”

“then that still counts as making sure you don’t kill anyone. now, in the short term, maybe those of us with less hp to spare need to be a little more careful than we have been. that doesn’t mean we need to stay away from you. personally, i refuse to. slim?”

“me too. i’ll be careful, but i’m not leaving you alone.”

“But –”

“but what?”

“I dunno. Jus’… please don’ lemme hurt ya? Please? I jus’ can’t.”

Cash scowls. “you’ve hurt me plenty of times, and i’ve been just fine.”

“Then don’ lemme kill ya! Fuck, Patches, Slim, how’d’ya think I’m gonna deal with that? Welp, LV’s gone, but so are half the people I care about! Whoopdeedoo, let’s all celebrate, everyone who’s left at least.”

“we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Slim insists.

“look,” Cash says, “we can talk about this later. right now, your ribs are still bleeding, and those aren’t just surface level scratches. just based on what i can see from here, i’m worried that a few could crack all the way through with a little more pressure. do you really want to count on your magic being able to hold them together?”

“No, ‘s jus’… No. I know tha’s stupid. We gotta fix up my ribs.” Twist looks down at them dubiously. They are in pretty bad shape.

“great, glad you agree. so i’m thinking, they’re also pretty dirty, to the point that it's a stars-damned miracle that none of them have gotten infected yet. i found your first aid kit, so let’s get them cleaned up and then we can wrap them. you’ve got a roll of medical tape in here, so we can use that to reinforce the ones that look like they could snap and tape down the parts that are trying to splinter off. the less we leave for your magic to take care of, the better.”

It sounds like a good plan to Slim, so he heads over to Cash’s pile of supplies. Twist however, shakes his head. “No. Jus’… jus’ wait a minute, sweetheart.”

“you said we could help you.”

“I know. Jus’ wait. Listen. I get what yer sayin’ ‘bout my ribs, an’ I’m fine with lettin’ ya fix ‘em, but ya gotta listen ta what I said ‘bout bein’ scared of hurtin’ ya.”

“we already talked about that. you weren’t in your right mind –”

“An’ what if I ain’t in my right mind again? Think I am right now, but that don’ mean nothin’ once ya start pokin’ around my ribs. Ya think if I ferget who ya are right in the middle ‘a that I’m gonna ask politely who ya are an’ what yer doin’?”

Cash sighs. “you do have a point. what would you suggest?”

Twist takes a shaky breath. “Tie me up.”

“what?!”

“You heard me.”

“half the reason i took you away from iggy was because she left you tied up and scared out of your mind.”

“Well ya won’ be leavin’, will ya? So even if I am scared outta my mind, I won’ stay that way.”

Cash shakes his head. “it’s not worth it. we’ll find another way.”

“Then get ta thinkin’, sweetheart, ‘cause the only way I’m okay with the two 'a you workin’ on my ribs is if we make sure I got no chance ta kill ya for it.”

“would it really be that bad?” Slim asks. “tying him up for a few minutes, i mean?” Not that he wants to, but Cash is acting like it’s not even an option.

“It’ll be fine. I c’n take it.” The way Twist’s voice shakes when he says it lends a lot more weight to Cash’s argument than to Twist’s.

“you shouldn’t have to.” Cash turns to Slim. “i don’t know all the details, but he’s absolutely terrified of any kind of restraints. i’m surprised he can deal with that towel around his hands.” He examines Twist suspiciously. “you are having trouble with the towel, aren’t you?”

Twist shakes his head. “'s fine. Not a big deal.”

“uh huh.”

Twist glares at him. “Look, I hate it, but I c’n deal with it. That what ya wanna hear? ‘s better ‘n killin’ anyone.”

“you’re not going to kill anyone.”

“Almost did. Don’ act like it didn’ scare the shit outta you, too.”

“that was a very specific set of circumstances that aren’t going to happen again.”

“Not that specific.”

“specific enough. you’ve grabbed my hands plenty of times and it didn’t do anything.”

“’cept scratch up yer hands.”

“which i already told you i don’t care about.”

“Bet Slim cares that I almost dusted 'im.”

Well, yes, Slim does, but that’s not the point, not if being restrained affects Twist as badly as Cash says. “not enough that i want you hurt.”

Twist scowls. “Hones’ly, darlin’, I don’ give a shit. I c’n get over my stupid thing about bein’ tied up. It ain’t worth riskin’ yer life.”

“but would it really be risking my life? your self-control is way better than you’re saying it is.”

“Obviously it ain’t, or we wouldn’ have this problem.”

“oh, come on, twist!” Cash rolls his eyes. “the whole reason this whole thing started was because you were busy stopping yourself from screaming while your soul was on fire. you’ve had 17 lv the whole time i’ve known you, and you’ve never killed me, even when i lived in your house. i’d have killed me a long time ago. you can’t honestly be claiming you don’t have incredible self-control.”

“So maybe I’m feelin’ a little bit paranoid right now, darlin'. Sue me. Look, are we gonna deal with my ribs or not? They’re makin’ it kinda hard ta breathe, so I’d appreciate everyone gettin’ on with it.”

“we’ll deal with your ribs, but i’m not tying you up.”

“Then yer not dealin’ with my ribs.”

“stop being so stubborn.”

“Think I got a right ta be stubborn ‘bout preferrin’ ta be tied up rather than risk killin’ either of ya when I already almost did.”

“well sorry for not wanting to trigger a panic attack.”

“guys?” Slim asks, hating to get in the middle of a building argument but feeling like he has to.

“What?” Now both of them are looking at him with the same angry looks they were giving each other.

“can we please just take care of twist’s ribs? and try tying him up if he thinks it’ll make him feel better?” He doesn’t want to hurt Twist either, but it’s what Twist wants to do.

“all it’s ever done so far is hurt him.”

“But this is different,” Twist says. “It’s my choice, an’ I trust you.”

“because that fixes everything, huh? it’ll be all better because you trust us?”

“No. It’s gonna suck. But I know you’ll let me out. An’ I know you’ll both still be here when it’s over, which is more ‘n we c’n say if ya don’t tie me up.”

Cash throws up his hands in defeat. “fine. if that’s the only way you’ll let us help you.”

Twist nods and manages a shaky smile.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why can't I ever get through a scene in one chapter? Or two chapters, or five chapters? No wonder this story is 34 chapters long and growing. Thank you, wonderful readers, for sticking with it, and especially thank you to those of you who keep commenting. You inspire me to keep wrangling these skeletons into something resembling a progressing plot, despite their best efforts to the contrary.

Thank the fucking stars; Cash and Slim are finally being reasonable. Twist isn’t sure how much longer he could have kept arguing in favor of being tied up. Maybe he _shouldn’t_ have argued in favor of being tied up. Maybe Cash is right. Maybe he can’t handle it. He can’t handle much lately. Maybe he should just try to keep it together for a few fucking minutes so they can stick a few bandaids on his ribs and get away from him. It can’t be that hard. Anyone could do it.

No, that’s stupid. It’s not worth the risk. Slim and Cash are more important than a pathetic little hangup that Twist should have gotten over years ago. Twist is just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. It’s not a big deal.

“– how’s this? twist?”

“Huh?” Must have drifted off. Fuck, he’s tired. Maybe he’ll pass out. That would solve a lot of problems.

“a bandage? to tie around your wrists?” Slim holds up the end of a roll of bandages. “we could even leave the towel on and use the bandage to tie it in place, if you’re worried about your claws.” That’s not going to work.

“What if I get out?” They need something stronger. Maybe leather, or some actual handcuffs <strike>or spider silk</strike>. Something he can’t break <strike>or just break his arms, that makes it pretty hard to</strike> “Find somethin’ stronger.”

“no.” Cash growls, because of course he has to argue about everything when Twist is barely keeping it together. It’s fine. Everything is fine. “we don’t have anything stronger, and we’re not taking the time to find something.”

Hey, that’s actually solvable! “Got some rope in the garage. I know I can’t break the stuff in the… uh… bottom… left drawer, I think? Bottom left drawer of the workbench next ta the door. Pretty sure it’s there. The blue ‘n white one. Not the green one. I c’n def’nitely break the green one. And the one with the li’l yellow flecks. So ya gotta get the blue ‘n white one. Or the chain on the hook over the workbench. Can’t break that one either. Or the bigger one on the floor, but I doubt ya wanna lug that one up here, anyway.” Slim and Cash both look at him strangely. “What?”

“why do you know whether or not you can break every rope and chain in your garage?” Cash asks, like that’s a weird thing to know.

Twist shrugs. “I dunno. Sometimes breakin’ ‘em ’s easier ‘n gettin’ a knife ta cut ‘em.” And sometimes he wonders what it would take to keep him safely contained if he got really out of control and couldn’t get any of his special tea, but mentioning that would probably start another argument.

“uh huh.” Cash and Slim share a look, but what they’re saying to each other is beyond Twist. Whatever.

“So, uh, ya gonna go get that rope? Or the chain on the hook. Either’s fine with me. Long as it ain’t the big one. That one’s just fer movin’ cars around an’ shit like that. Actually borrowed it from work a while back an’ I haven’t got ‘round ta takin’ it back, so it’s not really mine, so don’ use that one.”

Cash glares. “we’re not chaining you up.”

Resolutely ignoring the tone, Twist cheerfully agrees. “Great, so the rope, then? That’s what I’d pick. Jus’ make sure it’s the blue one. I c’n snap the green one right in half, easy.”

Rolling his eyelight, Cash counters, “bet you could also sit up ‘easy’ the last time you tested that.”

“Well, yeah, but who’d’a thought I could break anybody’s bones right now, either?” Slim flinches. Shit. He only meant to make a point to Cash, not upset Slim. “Shit, sweetheart. Sorry. Didn’t mean ta bring it up like that. Gotta learn ta watch my stupid mouth.”

“you’re not stupid,” Slim states flatly. “i want you to stop calling yourself stupid.”

“Sorry.” Slim’s just too damn nice. It just makes the guilt worse. Of all the people he could have <strike>killed</strike> hurt, why’d it have to be Slim? Anyone else would have the sense to have him locked up for good <strike>or just put down</strike> instead of wasting their time trying to make him feel better about it. He should be making Slim feel better, not the other way around.

“you can make up for it by not beating yourself up about it.” Jeez, of all the things to ask, he has to pick the one that Twist’s never going to manage. Twist tries to rub the back of his neck, then winces when it doesn’t work. Damn towel.

“you just tried to get your hands free, didn’t you? and it didn’t work.” And damn Cash. Of course he noticed.

“Didn’t try that hard.” It doesn’t compare to being mad enough to kill Slim. Not that he knew it was Slim, but they can’t exactly count on him knowing who someone is, can they?

“then go ahead and try. actually, no, wait until we get it secured, and then try. if you can get out, we’ll get your blue rope. if you can’t, we’re sticking with slim’s plan.”

“Don’ see why we can’t jus’ start with the rope,” Twist mutters.

“because you’re already hurt and probably about to be scared out of your mind. you don’t need a rope tearing up your hands when you try to get out of it.”

“Won’ try ta get out of it.” The whole point is that he wants the rope. He’s not going to fight it unless he loses it, and if that happens then he’s going to need it.

“easy to say that now, but what about once you start panicking?”

“I c’n hold still when I’m panicking.” <strike>What part of ‘don’t move’ don’t you understand, dearie? Maybe a little _incentive_ would help it get through that thick skull of yours.</strike> It would really be great if they could stop talking about this.

“add that to the list of things you think are reassuring but really aren’t.” Those little comments Cash keeps making are getting annoying.

“Come on, Patches. Ya act like I got some terrible secret I’m tryin’ ta hide.” Twist puts on a disarming grin. He probably mostly pulls it off. “Sorry, darlin’, I just ain’t that mysterious.”

“honestly, that ‘mystery’ is shaping up into a clearer picture every day, and it’s not a good one, but that’s not the point. the point is i’m not tying you up with a rope. it’s a towel and bandages, maybe some tape, or nothing. unless you can prove you can get out of the towel.”

That’s a challenge if Twist’s ever heard one, almost enough of one to distract him from everything else that’s wrong right now, so he sets to work untangling his hands from the towel. Cash probably meant that he should prove it with the bandages or tape or whatever, but if he’s going to be stubborn then he can take what he can get. Twist can get out of a stupid towel.

Twist can’t get out of the stupid towel.

“well?” Cash demands, browbone raised.

“My claws ’re stuck,” Twist admits sheepishly.

“not going to use your deadly strength to tear it to shreds and attack us?”

No need to rub it in. Twist already admitted he’s stuck in a towel. “Guess not. Didn’t stop me from almost killin’ Slim, though.” Which is the point of all of this, in case anyone forgot.

“which is why we have the towel. which you can’t get out of, so you’re not dangerous.”

“Doubt I was much stronger ‘n this when I broke Slim’s hand, darlin'. Just takes a little intent.”

“you’d still have to make contact to do any damage. the towel doesn’t care how much intent you use on it.”

“can we please just get started on twist’s ribs?” Slim interjects, _helpfully_ reminding Twist that his ribs are on fire. Not literally, just… it’d be really nice if he could stop trying to dig through them every time his soul hurts. What does he think he’s trying to do, take it out? Not that he’s usually thinking at the time, but it would be nice to at least remember that more pain is bad.

“yeah, let’s get going. twist, we’re not using rope because it’s overkill, but do you still want your wrists tied together with bandages in case you get your claws untangled?”

“Yep.” Seems like that’s the best he’s going to get, and he can’t really argue that the towel isn’t strong enough to hold him anymore. <strike>Deceptively strong where it’s woven through the joints</strike> shut up. It’s just a towel.

Cash and Slim work together to secure the bandages around the towel. To their credit, they do it really well. Really, really well.

“tight enough for you?” Cash asks, a hint of challenge back in his voice.

“Feels great!” Twist forces another grin. He’s definitely not going to be able to get out. No danger of that at all. He twists his wrists and feels tight ropes of bandages pressing against his ulna <strike>like thick ropes of silk</strike> nope! Not going there. “’s perfect.”

“uh huh.”

Cash doesn’t believe him. He’s let Cash see way too much. Time for a distraction. “Hate ta interrupt this fun little bondage session, but do ya think you could maybe get started on my ribs sometime soon? Kinda hurts ta breathe.” That’s what’s distracting Twist, anyway. Other people might as well be distracted by it, too.

“that’s what i’ve been trying to do,” Cash grumbles, but calms when Slim puts a soothing hand on his arm.

“let’s just get started,” Slim murmurs.

Twist nods as enthusiastically as he can. This is going to suck. Best to get it over with.

It does suck. Getting his ribs fixed hurts. Not as much as doing all the damage in the first place, but he usually doesn’t notice that happening on account of being a little bit distracted by his soul melting. This time he notices.

Twist tries to keep his bound hands out of the way while Cash and Slim both work on cleaning his ribs and taping them back together. Tries being the operative word. There’s no good place to put them that doesn’t block some part of his ribcage, and anywhere he might put them puts enough strain on his wrists that he can’t forget his hands are bound for even a moment. Even when they aren’t blocking whatever ribs are being worked on, there’s nothing stopping the occasional uncontrollable pained jolt from sending them right into somebody’s jaw, as Cash quickly discovers.

“fucking–” Cash mutters.

“Sorry. ‘m sorry,” Twist moans. He has to do better. Has to hold still.

“it’s fine, just–”

“I c’n hold still. Know I gotta, jus’ gotta –” <strike>Why can’t you follow one simple direction?</strike> Shut up. <strike>Not sure how much more I can break it down for you, dearie.</strike> “Sorry, boss.”

“shit.”

She’s mad. What did he do wrong now? She sounds upset. Probably mad. “Sorry.”

“don’t apologize.” Fuck. What else does she want? He can’t move his hands. That kind of limits the ways he can make it up to her, at least without getting up. Fuck, his ribs hurt. He doesn’t want to get up. It hurts. “hey! listen. i’m not mad. no one’s mad. apologize if you want.”

If he wants what? What does she want him to do? “Sorry, boss.” But she said not to say that. But then she said he should. What does she want?!

“will you just–?!” Just what? She’s not coming closer so she must want him to go to her, but how’s he supposed to do that? He can’t sit up. Hah, like she cares if he can’t move? She’s pissed, so he’d better find a way to make her happy if he doesn’t want something worse.

The silk around his hands is sticky between his claws, won’t ever come off, won’t let him forget he’s helpless in front of her, doesn’t matter that he’s strong because she can make him like this whenever she wants and all he can do is try to make her happy so it ends. He struggles to get an elbow under him, find some way to roll over, do _something_ so he can move, but as soon as he bends his ribcage, agony radiates out from every rib and he chokes on it, tries to scream but there’s no air to scream with because he can’t breathe and he can’t move and he can’t make her be less pissed.

“hold still! twist! calm down. just listen. i’m not your boss. i’m the farthest thing from being your boss. you’ve never listened to me a day in your life. i’m cash. the guy with me is slim. neither of us is your boss. you have to calm down.”

“Not my boss?” He can’t breathe. His hands are wrapped in silk. Boss is mad. Everything hurts.

“no. cash and slim, not muffet.”

Twist inhales deeply, feeling the burn in his ribs, then lets it out in a sigh as he remembers why they burn. “Cash an’ Slim. Right.” Of course that’s who they are. He knows that. Mostly knows that. Usually knows that. Muffet’s gone. <strike>You’ll never be free of me, dearie.</strike> Fuck off. You’re long gone.

“are you back with us now?”

Is he? Probably. He nods.

“okay. do you need a break?”

Twist shakes his head. The sooner they finish his ribs, the sooner they can free his hands and the sooner Muffet can fuck back off to the dark recesses of his skull.

“okay. that’s fine. lets get this over with.” Cash hesitates. “just… try not to punch me in the face this time.”

“Sorry.”

“that’s not – i know you didn’t mean to. which, i guess means you can’t stop yourself from doing it again, so never mind – twist! breathe!”

Twist can’t. Can’t breathe, can’t stop himself from hurting Cash, or Slim, or anyone because that’s all he does, all he’s good for, just a <strike>cock and a strong arm</strike> LV-ridden gutter rat that needs to be –

“twist!” Someone’s rubbing his arm. Stop that. Don’t touch. Too dangerous.

“Hurt you,” he whines.

“it’s okay. we’re all okay.”

“Don’ deserve it.”

“yes you do. just breathe for a minute. we’re all okay.” That’s Slim. Twist hurt Slim. Twist hurt Cash. Twist hurts everyone. Twist is just a worthless fuck up. They should leave. “shhh. everyone’s okay. all you need to do right now is breathe. deep breaths.” Twist takes a deep breath. It hurts. He whimpers. “okay, maybe not that deep. try a normal breath.” Okay, normal breath. Slim wants him to take a normal breath. He’d do anything for Slim. Just take a normal breath. It’s not that hard. He takes a normal breath, feels the air rushing in to refresh his soul. Still hurts, but he can do it. Worth it for Slim. And for oxygen. That’s probably a good enough reason for breathing on its own.

“Sorry.”

“it’s okay. everything’s okay. we’re just trying to fix your ribs.”

“Yeah, I know.” Twist shuts his sockets and sighs. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m bein’ stupid.”

“no, you’re not. you’re just having a really hard time right now.”

“Yer the one who got hurt.” <strike>Killed</strike> _hurt_ because he’s still alive, so he didn’t get killed. Obviously. Stop being stupid.

“i was hurt for a few seconds, and now i’m not. i admit i was pretty freaked out for a while,” Slim was scared he scared Slim now Slim is scared of him – “but i understand what went wrong and i’m not worried about it.” He should be worried. Twist can’t be the only one who’s worried. Twist can’t control himself can’t control anything Twist’s just a stupid fuck up Slim should be scared, “now you’re more upset about it than i am, and you’re still hurt, so it’s okay if you freak out sometimes.”

“Not okay. Gonna hurt ya.” He looks over at Cash. There’s no bruise on his face but there should be because Twist hit him. “Both a ya. Should tie me ta the bed so I can’t move.” The ice shooting up his spine at the thought doesn’t matter, because at least they’ll be safe.

“you didn’t hurt either one of us this time. all you did was try to get up and stop breathing,” Slim looks worried. Slim shouldn’t be worried. “that’s dangerous to you, not to us.”

“But I hurt ya!” Why do they keep acting like Twist is more important than them?

“one time, and cash fixed it.”

“and i’ll fix it again if it happens again, and if you actually hurt _me_ then slim can heal me. one injury isn’t is a death sentence.”

“It could be!”

“we won’t let it be.”

“Don’ wanna hurt ya.” Why won’t they understand that Twist is going to kill them?! Please don’t let him kill them.

“you’re the one who’s hurt right now. you aren’t even trying to hurt anyone.”

“Punched ya.”

“you flailed around and whacked me in the face with a towel. do i look hurt?”

“No, but I shouldn’ta –”

“twist. your ribs are barely holding themselves together. it’s not reasonable to expect you to hold yourself perfectly still while we clean them.”

“But I gotta!” He can hold still. It’s just a little pain. What’s wrong with him that he suddenly can’t take a little pain? It’s pathetic. Stupid worthless fuckup.

“no, you don’t ‘gotta’,” Cash growls. “this is just another problem we need to solve. we’ve been doing that a lot lately. it’ll be fine.”

“‘s a stupid problem,” Twist insists. Which they would know if Twist would stop losing his fucking mind every time something mildly uncomfortable happens. Fucking worthless idiot, making everything a bigger deal than it needs to be.

“no, it’s not. why the hell would you think you should be able to hold perfectly still while someone rubs disinfectant into cracks that go halfway through your ribs? no one expects you to do that. people don’t do that.”

“I c’n do it. Did it before. Ain’t that bad.” Why is Cash getting so upset? Is he worried about Twist’s self-control? But he got mad at Twist for worrying about his own self-control, so what does he want? Twist has got to get himself under control so everything can start making sense again.

“twist?” Slim says softly. “you know you don’t have to do that with us, right?”

“Do what?” Maybe Slim can make sense of whatever Cash is on about, because Twist’s got nothing.

“act like nothing can hurt you? if that’s what you’re trying to do? because we don’t want to hurt you.” The tiny, sympathetic furrow between Slim’s browbones hurts. So does the way he reaches out to put a hand on Twist’s shoulder but pulls back before they touch, looking sad. Why is Slim sad? Slim shouldn’t be sad. “i’m guessing maybe someone did? hurt you, i mean? and you had to act like it didn’t matter? is that right?”

Oh fuck. Why’d Slim have to go and notice something like that? Now he’s just going to worry. Slim shouldn’t be worrying about Twist. “Heh. Thanks fer the concern, sweetheart, but it ain’t anythin’ like that. ‘s just growin’ up on the streets, ya know? Gotta be tough.” Please stop being sad.

Slim nods earnestly, still way sadder than he should be over Twist. “okay. i get that. but we just want to help you, and it’s hard to do that when you think you have to be tough all the time. could we maybe just, um, go ahead and act like we’re not on the streets, or with someone who wants to hurt you, or anywhere else except for your very safe bedroom with people who want to help you? it would make it a lot easier and, and _safer_ for all of us.”

Safer, huh? Just goes right for the throat, doesn’t he? Not that recognizing the tactic makes it any less effective. And to think, there are people who think Slim’s a pushover. Twist sighs, really wishing he could do something with his hands <strike>but can’t because of the silk caught in his joints</strike> fuck off. There's no silk. “Alright, sweetheart. Ya got me. Now what is it ya want me ta do ‘stead of bein’ tough all the time?”

“not much. just let us talk through things so we can figure out what works best instead of jumping right to whatever makes you the most miserable because you think it’s safer. you matter too.”

“Aww, fuck, sweetheart. Why ya gotta go talkin’ like that?” Slim is just… he just keeps doing things to his soul that don’t have anything to do with LV.

“because it’s true, asshole.” And then there’s Cash, sweet talker that he always is.

But seriously, what did Twist do to deserve these two? <strike>Nothing. They’re not his and he can’t keep them.</strike> Whatever. They’re here now and that’s what matters._<strike> And maybe it’ll work and he can actually keep them</strike>_ or maybe he’ll just kill them both because they’re too worried about his feelings to protect themselves. “So how we gonna keep me from bein’ ‘miserable’ an’ also keep me from knockin’ yer skull in? Cause I gotta say, that’d make me pretty miserable.”

“would it be okay if i hold your hands?” Slim suggests. “that way i could keep them out of the way without tying you to the bed.”

“which we’re not doing,” Cash repeats firmly.

Slim lays a reassuring hand on Cash’s arm and smiles gently at Twist. “your hands would still be wrapped up in the towel, so you couldn’t hurt me, and i could help you hold them still when something hurts too much. would that be easier to deal with than being tied to the bed?”

Slim is too good for Twist. They both are, even if Cash tries his hardest to prove he isn’t. They’re just… Something drips down his face. Fucking broken socket. Makes it look like he’s crying. Which he isn’t. He can’t, but he wouldn’t be anyway because a couple of friends trying not to hurt him too much is a stupid thing to cry over.

“twist?” Slim lifts a hand up to his socket to wipe away the magic. He doesn’t even hesitate, just wipes Twist’s face like Twist didn’t try to kill him a few minutes ago. Maybe Twist hasn’t scared him away forever. “twist?”

“Huh?”

“can i hold on to your hands?

“Ya really wanna?”

“yes.”

“Okay.”

Slim smiles.

As it turns out, keeping Twist’s hands out of the way is still harder than it sounds, especially once Cash gets back to cleaning out the new cracks. Twist tries to hold still, he really does, but as high as his pain tolerance normally is, it’s been just about maxed out for the past few days. Everything hurts. Everything. He flinches as a particularly vicious jolt shoots up his spine, almost pulling Slim down on top of him.

“sorry,” Cash mutters, not stopping whatever he’s doing as Slim rights himself. Slim pats Twist’s skull.

“’m okay,” Twist mutters through gritted teeth. Not really, but what’s he going to do, ask them to stop? That’ll just make it take longer, which means more time with his hands tied up. He flexes his fingers. They don’t move much. Of course they don’t move. He can’t tear through that much silk. Which has nothing to do with anything because there isn’t any spider silk, just a stupid towel.

Right? Isn’t it a towel? Please just be a towel. “Slim? Sweetheart?”

“yeah?”

“Whatcha got wrapped ‘round my hands?”

“it’s just a towel.”

“Oh. Right. A towel. Knew that.” Of course it’s just a towel. Just a stupid towel that his claws got stuck in because who needs spider silk when he’s too weak to get his claws out of a fucking towel? Pathetic. She’d love this, gets off on making him so weak so helpless trapped always trapped can’t get her out of his head stuck with her forever and nothing will ever –

“shh. shh, it’s okay, twisted, it’s okay. it’s just us. i’m just slim. i’m holding your hands to keep everyone safe. cash is cleaning your ribs because they’re hurt. we’re just taking care of you. everything will be okay.” Someone is stroking his skull. It’s Slim. He said he was Slim. Twist leans into the touch.

“Slim?”

“mhmm. just slim.”

“I don’… what’s happenin’?”

“we’re trying to fix your ribs. well, cash is. i’m helping you keep your hands out of the way.”

“Cash?”

“right here,” Cash says. Of course that’s Cash. Who else would it be? <strike>Claws digging into broken bones _quite a mess, aren’t you, dearie?_</strike> Fuck off. That was a rhetorical question. <strike>Well look at you, trying to use big words.</strike> Fuck _off_.

“shh. it’s okay. everything’s going to be okay. it’s just cash and slim. no one else. just us.”

Twist whimpers as he presses his skull into Slim’s hand. “Don’ let her get ya, darlin’. Please.”

“no one’s going to get me. or you. or cash. she isn’t here.”

“Ya sure?”

“we’re sure,” the voice that’s been scraping out his ribs growls, and that’s Cash. It’s definitely Cash, and the one holding his hands and stroking his skull is Slim. It’s just Cash and Slim. “if she was here, she’d be dust.”

That’d be nice, but it’s never going to happen. “Can’t dust ‘er. Won’ work.”

“what is she, some kind of immortal? anyone can dust.” Cash doesn’t understand.

“Can’t. Jus’… Patches, I can’t.”

“i bet you could. or do you mean because of the EXP? either way you don’t have to. she’s not here, and if she was, i think we’d both be happy to take care of her for you.”

“we would,” Slim agrees in a darker tone than Twist has ever heard him use.

“No, but… ya can’t. Sweetheart… Or maybe ya can, I dunno. But I don’ want ya ta… jus’ stay away from her. Please?” The only thing worse than Muffet getting Twist would be her getting one of his friends.

“shouldn’t be hard to avoid, because she isn’t here,” Cash points out, which… what?

“Where’d she go?”

“i don’t know, because i’ve never met her and she’s never been here.”

“But she was jus’… No, wait, she wasn’t, was she?” Twist sighs as Cash nods. When did he decide Muffet was actually talking to him? All he has to do is look around the room to see that there are clearly no Muffets around. Which doesn’t mean there aren’t any spiders because she could have spies and – stop it. This is getting ridiculous. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m tryin’ not ta do that.”

“it’s fine. or… not fine, but not your fault. you know what i mean,” Cash grumbles.

“Sure.” Twist takes a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm him down, what with his ribs screaming at him for it and all, but it does at least help him focus. He needs to focus. They can't keep doing this all day. “Okay, so now that we’ve got a few seconds with my skull workin’ as well as it ever does, c’n we get on with fixin’ my ribs? I don’ think this shit’s gonna stop ‘til we c’n get rid ‘a this stupid towel.”

“we could –”

“Nope! We’re keepin’ the towel, so get ta work.” Twist burrows his face comfortably into Slim’s hand, soothed by the muttering of such familiar endearments as motherfucking self-sacrificial asshole over his ribs as Cash does actually get back to work. It’s nice to be listened to.

Except that it hurts. Everything hurts and aches and burns, and that’s just the normal stuff without anyone trying to dig a bunch of shit out of his ribs and tape them back together. Twist doesn’t watch, just keeps his face pressed against Slim’s hand, trying not to scream, except that just makes him clench his jaw, which is fine for a minute until one nasty moment of agony ends with Slim’s hand jerking away from his face as Slim stumbles back from the bed with a gasp.

Twist can’t quite breathe yet, so his attempt to ask what happened just comes out as a whimper. Cash does better.

“slim?”

“i’m fine.”

“what happened?”

“nothing. it’s fine.”

“didn’t look fine.”

“it’s. fine.” Slim lays his hand back against Twist’s skull. Twist nuzzles into it, relishing in the comfort it brings to his foggy mind, making sure to close his mouth so he doesn’t nick Slim on his sharp teeth – oh fuck. He pulls his face away.

“Slim? Sweetheart?”

“yeah?”

“Did I bite ya?” Please say no. Please.

“no.” Except that’s not really the whole story, is it?

“Did I try ta bite ya?”

“… i don’t think you were trying,” Slim admits. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Sorry.”

“it’s okay. my hand just got too close to your mouth. i’ll be more careful next time.”

“Shouldn’ be you. I gotta be more careful. Not you. Ain’t yer fault.” It’s Twist’s fault because all Twist ever does is fuck things up and he can’t stop it.

“you can’t be more careful right now.” See, even Slim knows it. “that’s not your fault. you’re sick, and you’re in pain. a lot of pain.”

“‘s not that bad.”

“bullshit,” Cash growls. Cash sure is growling at him a lot. Never over the right things, though. Twist hurt Slim. That’s inexcusable.

“Fine, Patches, so maybe it actually sucks, but that’s no excuse. I gotta do better.”

“it really is an excuse,” Cash insists. “you’re acting like you did it on purpose. you clenched your jaw because i rubbed disinfectant into your marrow. the marrow that’s still inside your ribs. slim’s hand just happened to be in the way.”

“not even that much in the way,” Slim says, holding up his hand for Twist to inspect. “look, you didn’t even scratch me.” There’s no new damage, just the lines from where he broke it before, but there could have been.

“Need ta block my teeth.”

“what, like with a mouth guard?” Cash scoffs. “we don’t have one, and we’re not going shopping.”

“Then put somethin’ in my mouth.”

“we’re not gagging you.”

“You could just –”

“no,” they both state. Well fuck.

“Fine. Then stay away from my face, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t riskin’ biting you.”

“wasn’t it helping you?” Slim asks.

“Nope." Yes. "Don’t matter.” It’s not worth it.

“oh. okay.” Slim sinks his face back into his hood. Fuck.

“Aw, sweetheart, no. I don’ mean it didn’ help. It did! It just ain’t worth hurtin’ ya.” Why can they not understand that making Twist feel better isn’t worth them getting hurt?

Slim nods, but keeps his face buried in his hood.

“I mean it. Yer really helpin’ me.” Slim peeks out from behind the fluff. “Look, maybe I’m bein’ stupid. Nobody’d be surpised, least of all me. I jus’ don’ wanna hurt ya. The other stuff helps, cause everythin’ sucks right now, but I’m gonna be okay, long as I don’ hurt ya. Or kill ya.”

“you didn’t hurt me this time.”

“But I did scare ya. Didn’ I, sweetheart?”

“sorry.”

“Don’ you go apologizin'! If I can’t say sorry fer breakin’ yer hand, you can’t say sorry fer bein’ scared I was gonna fuckin’ _bite_ ya!”

“you weren’t going to bite me. you were just hurt.”

“Still coulda bit ya.”

Cash pours some more disinfectant onto a towel. “can we please just get this done? unless you want me to still be cleaning your ribs when the medicine hits another node because you've decided you're a vampire.”

Twist shudders, shaking his head. “Nope, can’t say that sounds like my idea of fun. Look, darlin’, I wanna get this over with as much as anyone. I jus’ can’t always remember that.”

“it’s not getting done any faster by arguing about whether you tried to bite slim.”

“I know I didn’ try ta bite Slim. ‘s just that I coulda done it anyway.”

Slim finally stops hiding in his hood. “which would have hurt, but wouldn’t have killed me because you didn’t mean to.”

“I know, darlin', I know.” Twist sighs. “Look, ya know what, ‘m not gonna argue anymore. Yer right that the longer this goes on, the more problems it’s gonna cause. Let’s just get this done. How about, if ‘m not about ta kill either of ya, we jus’ keep goin’, whatever else happens?”

Cash scowls. “because i definitely want to keep scraping dirty marrow out of your ribs like nothing’s wrong while you stop breathing.”

Twist tries to scratch the back of his neck, winces at the reminder that he can’t, and tries to put his hands down without making a big deal of it. Hopefully they didn’t notice. “Guess ya got a point there. Okay, so how ‘bout this: if I do somethin’ that could kill any of us, me included, ya stop an’ deal with the problem, but anythin’ other ‘n that, ya keep goin’ til it’s done.”

“what if you’re hallucinating?”

“Then make sure I can’t hurt anyone an’ keep goin’.”

“even if you think you’re being tortured?”

Twist shuts his sockets, takes a deep breath, and pastes on a grin. “That’s about what I’m expectin’, sweetheart. I’ve got over it before, I’ll get over it again. Let’s get this shit show over with. I wanna go ta sleep.”


	35. Chapter 35

There’s no way this won’t end badly. Cash rearranges his first aid supplies as Slim searches for a better way to hold on to Twist. If the past few days have taught him nothing else, it’s _do not_ ignore Twist freaking out. Look what happened last time. He wasn’t even really freaking out, just confused, and next thing Cash knows Slim’s hand is crumbling into dust. How Cash saved him is as much of a mystery to Cash as it is to everyone else. He’s not that great at healing, as far as he knows. Not that he tries it very often, and anyway it was _Slim_, so he had to try, but it really shouldn’t have worked. But there’s Slim, healthy as ever, tiny furrow in his brow as he climbs up on the bed and lays Twist’s skull and his pillow in his lap.

“Thinkin’ I could get used ta this, sweetheart!” Twist’s grin is almost real, and almost distracts from the way his hands clench inside the towel.

“does it feel okay?”

“Yep! More’n okay. Maybe we should try this again sometime when some of my parts start workin’ a little more like they should.”

Cash rolls his eyelight, but Slim smiles, which was probably Twist’s goal anyway.

“Yer welcome ta join us, Patches!” Idiot.

“oh i’ll join you, alright.” Right after he scares Twist out of his mind. Why did he agree to do this, again? Oh, right, because Twist is physically falling apart, which is arguably more important than Twist mentally falling apart. What’s one more breakdown in the grand scheme of things? Never mind that taking Twist away from someone who routinely ignored panic attacks was how he got himself into this mess in the first place.

“That a threat, darlin’? Or a promise? What’cha gonna do ta me?”

“rub disinfectant on all your broken bones, for a start.” Cash pours some disinfectant on a fresh towel.

“Hmm, not normally my idea of a good time, but I’ll try anythin’ once.” Fine. If Twist wants to pretend like everything’s fine, then that’s just what they’ll do. For as long as it lasts.

“fine.” No time like the present. He wipes his disinfectant-soaked towel across a particularly nasty looking chip.

Twist flinches and gasps, then glares. “Warn a fella, will ya?”

“would that help?”

“Might help me not ta kick ya in the skull.”

“your legs look pretty stuck under a blanket to me.”

“Keep mouthin’ off an’ I’ll be happy ta test it out, sweetheart.”

“whatever. you’re not going to kick me.” He wraps a thin layer of bandages around the newly cleaned chip and tapes them in place, then looks for another chip or crack. They’re not hard to find. “some of these look like they’re about to snap.”

Twist cranes his neck to see, then winces. “Yeah, gotta say, that don’ look too good. How ‘bout ya work on those, first, huh?”

“sure.” Supporting the bone behind a particularly deep crack with one hand, Cash turns the towel to a clean spot and rubs it along the crack. Twist shivers.

“you’re doing great,” Slim murmurs.

“Yeah, bein’ real helpful, ain’t I? I’ll try ta hold still.”

“that’d be great,” Cash mutters, knowing it isn’t the nicest thing to say but really doubting how well Twist’s ribs are going to hold together if Twist moves much more while Cash works on them.

“Sorry.”

“that’s not – it’s fine. it’s not your fault. you just really need to hold still.”

“Sure, boss.” Fuck. Slim’s glance at Cash holds the same sentiment.

“i’m not your boss.” Twist’s browbones furrow. “twisted! i’m not your boss. i’m cash.”

“Cash?” Twist whispers.

“yeah, cash. remember me?”

Twist clenches his sockets shut, then opens them with another of those damn lying grins on his face. “Course I remember you, darlin’. Yer Cash. Heh, Patches. C’n I call ya Patches?”

“it’s a little late to be asking that now.”

“Yeah.” Twist snorts. “Guess it is.” He leans back into the pillow. Slim starts gently rubbing Twist's skull, encouraging him to lean back further. Twist sighs, shutting his sockets as his smile relaxes into something more genuine. Then his sockets blink open.

“Hey, what’re ya standin’ around starin’ at me for, sweetheart? Can’t be done yet, can ya?”

“just reminding you who i am.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks.” Twist’s sockets narrow. “But, uh… didn’t I say ta keep workin’ as long as I wasn’t tryin’ ta hurt anyone?”

“right, because it’s always such a great idea to ignore it when you start randomly calling people ‘boss’.”

Twist scowls. “‘s fine. Look, sweetheart, I’m already over it. Toldja, I wanna get this over with. That’s not gonna happen if we gotta stop and talk about it every time I get a little weird. We talked about this. Didn’t we?” The tough guy act might be a little easier to buy if Twist didn’t sound legitimately unsure of whether a conversation from a couple of minutes ago actually happened.

“we did talk about it. i just think it’s a stupid plan.”

Twist nods agreeably. “Just the kind of plan I like, then, an’ since it’s a plan about me, I get ta pick. Get back ta work.”

“fine.”

Cash does get back to work, and he does start warning Twist about everything he’s about to do, as Twist requested. It doesn’t seem to help, at least not in any way Cash cares about.

Sure, Twist holds still. He holds very still. His teeth clench and his eyelight rolls up into his socket, but he holds still. Magic beads at the tips of the cracks in his broken socket and drips down his face, but he holds still. Half the time, he holds so still from the moment Cash tells him he’s about to start on another crack that Cash has to remind him to breathe and refuse to do anything else until he starts again.

“Sorry,” Twist gasps after yet another reminder to breathe before he passes out. “Dunno… dunno why ‘m so… shouldn’t be so hard.”

“shh, it’s okay,” Slim murmurs against his acoustic meatus. “it’s not your fault. you’re just really hurt right now. it’s okay.”

“‘s jus’… ain’t that bad, I jus’ can’t…

“it’s fine,” Cash tries to soothe. He sucks at it. Better leave that to Slim.

“It ain’t… don’ even hurt. I mean, not that much. Shouldn’t be so… I shouldn’t…”

“your skull’s about as fucked up as it can get." At least Cash can pull off the insults. Does that count as being soothing? "I don’t know how you haven’t completely lost it yet.” Yep, first class job at comfort, as always.

“Sorry ‘m bein’ stupid.”

And now he's convinced Twist he thinks he's being stupid. “no one thinks you’re being stupid.”

“‘s just… I can’t move my hands.”

“i know.”

“Why can’t I…?” Twist cranes his neck to see who’s behind him. Slim smiles down at him reassuringly. Twist relaxes slightly. “Oh, ‘s you. That’s fine.”

Slim pats Twist’s skull. Twist leans into his hand for a moment, then sighs and looks back at Cash. “Enough a this. Thought I toldja not ta stop.”

Cash rolls his eyelight, “fucking martyr,” but starts working on the next scratch. Twist even keeps breathing this time.

Twist rallies for a while after that, even going so far as to make fun of Cash’s rib cleaning technique, which really, Cash would like to see Twist do any better with the mess he has to work with. After a while, though, with a little more than half of the damaged ribs thoroughly cleaned, bandaged, and taped, Twist is drifting in and out again.

“i’m going to clean this one now.” It doesn’t seem to help much, but Cash is diligent about giving Twist some kind of warning each time he moves to the next break, especially the deep ones.

“Mhm.” That’s about all the acknowledgement he’s gotten for the last several injuries. Maybe Twist is going to fall asleep. Then his sockets open wide. “Patches?”

“hmm?”

“Why can’t I move my hands?”

“slim’s holding them.”

Twist's browbones furrow. “Why won’ Slim let me move my hands?”

“you told him not to.”

“Oh.” His sockets drift shut, then blink open. “I don’ like it.”

“i’m sure you don’t.”

Twist turns to Slim again. “Slim, darlin’?”

“yeah?”

“I don’ like it. Let go.”

Slim frowns at Cash. Cash shrugs. Slim frowns at Twist. “sure that’s what you want?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. Lemme go.”

“you sure didn’t want me to do that earlier.”

“I don’ give a shit. Let. _Go._” Twist snarls. Slim pulls his hands away very quickly.

“don’t growl at slim,” Cash snaps, watching Slim rub the place where the breaks were.

Twist flinches, then covers his face with his towel-wrapped hands. “Sorry. ‘m sorry.”

“it’s okay,” Slim reassures.

“It ain't. I can’t… sorry. I don’ even know what I’m doin’. Jus’ tie me up er somethin’. ‘m not actin’ right.”

“no one is tying you up,” Cash growls. "not more than you already are."

Slim nods, then adds, “i still want to help you. you're less miserable when i hold you. i like making you less miserable. can i still help?”

Twist sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘course you can still help. If ya wanna. Don' know what's got inta me. Ya still wanna help?”

“of course.”

“Okay.” Twist puts his hands back in Slim’s lap, only flinching a little when Slim holds on to them. “Don’ listen ta any a that stupid shit I say, okay? Dunno what I’m talkin’ 'bout. I don’t want ya ta lemme go. ‘s dangerous.”

Slim frowns. “are you sure? it doesn’t seem right to keep holding you when you tell me to let go.”

“Well right now I’m tellin’ ya not ta let go. I dunno what I’m sayin’ when I say that. Don’ listen ta me.”

Because that’s just how they want to spend their afternoon, holding Twist down while Twist begs them to let him go. This day just keeps getting better and better.

“you’re really sure?” Slim continues. “i’ll do it if you want me to, but i really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Not gonna hurt me. I’m just bein’ stupid. I‘m fine.”

“it’s not stupid to tell someone to stop doing something that scares you.”

Twist turns his face away. “Fine. Ain’t stupid. Still not helpful. Don’ let go a me.”

Slim nods. “okay. if that’s what you really want.”

“It is.” Twist glares at Cash. “And you! How many times I gotta tell ya not ta stop fixin' my ribs just ‘cause I freak out?”

“that's kind of hard to do," Cash snaps back. "if nothing else, i need you to hold still.”

“Then sit on me or somethin’, sweetheart, 'cause I'm just about done with all this shit. Do what ya gotta do. I jus’ wanna go ta sleep.”

“fine. don’t blame me when you lose your mind. next up is the crack at the end of your eighth rib down on your left side.” Checking that Slim is ready, Cash gets back to work.

Twist’s resolve lasts through that first crack, which is good because that one was only held in place by maybe a quarter inch of of solid bone, but soon that lost look makes its way back into his sockets.

“Patches?”

“hmm?”

“I can’t move my hands.”

“i know.”

“Why can’t I move my hands?”

“slim’s holding them. because you told him to.”

“Want him ta stop.”

“you told him not to listen to you.”

“Want you ta stop.”

“you told me not to listen to you, either.”

“Well I’m an idiot, ain’t I? So don’t listen ta me. Or, uh, listen ta me now, not then. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme go.”

It's not getting to Cash. It's not. “you said not to.”

“An’ now I said I was bein’ stupid. Lemme go!”

Cash and Slim exchange a look. It's just going to piss Twist off if they keep stopping, and they're never going to get done. Honestly, at this point, Cash thinks he’d just want to get it over with in Twist’s position, too. “we’re not letting you go.”

“Yer not?” Twist’s sockets widen in horror. “But… but I thought… thought ya… why?”

“because you told us not to.”

“I… but… but ya gotta…” Twist trails off, breath stuttering.

“shh,” Slim soothes, rubbing Twist’s skull with the hand that isn’t keeping his hands firmly in place. “no one’s going to hurt you. i’m just keeping your hands out of the way until Cash is done with your ribs. then i’ll let you go.”

“You’ll let me go?”

“of course.”

“‘kay.” Twist inhales deeply. “Okay, what’d I gotta do?”

“nothing. just wait a few minutes until cash finishes your ribs. that’s all. then i’ll let you go.”

“Yer gonna let me go?”

“yeah, i just said that.”

“Sorry,” Twist whimpers. “Sorry, boss, I c’n listen.”

“i’m not your boss. i’m slim.”

“Slim?”

“yeah. slim.”

“Slim. But... then why’re ya doin’ this ta me, sweetheart? I thought...”

Slim winces. “you asked me to.”

Cash understands the feeling. Cash hates understanding the feeling. Unfortunately, Twist has demanded that they ignore all of those feelings. “we need to finish your ribs. i’m more than halfway done. you told me to keep going until it’s finished.”

Twist’s sockets get wider. Cash is going to pretend it isn’t from fear. “If - if ya say so, darlin’.”

“i do.” Cash starts on the next crack.

“What’re ya –” Twist clenches his teeth and hisses, then continues, “what’re ya doin’ ta me?”

“i told you, fixing your ribs.”

“Sorry. I c’n listen, swear I can, jus’... I jus’ dunno why yer… ‘cause yer not Muffet. Yer Cash. Ain’t’cha Cash?” That waver in his voice isn’t going to make Cash stop for a second, because he’ll never be able to start again.

“yeah, i’m cash.”

Twist whimpers. “Then why’re ya doin’ this? I thought – thought ya didn’t…”

“you asked me to do this.”

“I… what’d I do? How come –" The rest of the sentence is choked off in what sounds way too much like a sob. Fuck, they have to keep going. “Is it ‘cause I killed Slim?” What the fuck?!

“no! you did not kill slim. he's sitting right behind you. you've got your skull in his lap.”

“Sorry! 'm sorry. Didn’t mean ta kill ‘em. Didn’t… just… ‘m so sorry.”

“twist!” Slim snaps. “you didn’t kill me. i’m right here. just look up.”

Twist does look up, but doesn’t seem reassured. “Sorry I killed ya, sweetheart." He shakes his skull. "Guess that’s why ya wanna hurt me? ‘s okay. Think I wanna hurt me, too.”

Slim is having none of that. “how could i want to hurt you if you’d killed me?”

Twist blinks, then shakes his skull again. “I dunno. I dunno nothin’, sweetheart. That’s a stupid thing ta say. I know it don’ make no sense. Jus’… if ya don’ wanna hurt me, an’ I didn’ kill ya, couldja please jus' lemme go? I kinda hate bein’ tied up.”

Slim pets Twist's skull. Twist doesn't seem to notice. “i know you hate it, but you told me not to let you go.”

“Don’ listen ta me, then. Or, I mean, do listen ta me, but listen now, not then. I dunno what I’m sayin’. Please jus’ lemme go.”

“i can’t.”

“Can too! Please, sweetheart, please jus’ tell me what’cha want. I’ll do it if you’ll just let me go.”

Slim shakes his skull, so Twist turns back to Cash. “Patches? I dunno why yer mad at me, but I promise I c’n do better if ya jus’ lemme outta here. Promise. Jus’ tell me what’cha want.”

Steeling himself against Twist’s pleading sockets, <strike>knowing he’s never forgetting that sight</strike>, Cash shakes his skull, too. “i want you to hold still and let me finish your ribs. that's what i want. then we’ll let you go.”

“Hold still?” Twist inhales deeply. “Okay. I c’n hold still. Then you’ll let me go?”

“yes.”

Twist can’t hold still. He doesn’t even seem to be reacting to the pain so much as flinching at every move Cash makes, and then flinching again when the movement reminds him that he can’t move his hands. “Sorry,” he whimpers each time he realizes he isn’t doing as he was told. “'m tryin'.”

“it’s okay. i’m still going to let you go. we’re almost done.” They aren’t really almost done, because it’s hard to clean someone’s ribs when they can’t hold still, but maybe if Cash keeps saying it then it’ll eventually be true.

“‘m sorry.”

Ignoring that, because Twist is going to keep apologizing whatever Cash says, Cash reaches his hand into Twist’s ribcage to support a couple of ribs near his collarbone that are a little more precariously attached than Cash had realized at first. His hand brushes against Twist’s soul. Twist shrieks. “shit. sorry.” Maybe he shouldn’t be so casual about putting his hands in Twist’s ribcage.

“Sorry,” Twist whimpers.

“it’s fine, just –”

“‘m sorry! Sorry boss. Please lemme go. Won’ do it again. Jus’ can’t – lemme go!” Without warning, Twist arches his spine, nearly pulling Cash and Slim both down on top of him.

“fuck!” Cash yells, catching himself with the hand that isn’t inside Twist’s ribcage. “don’t do that!”

If Twist cares that he almost snapped all his ribs by means of falling skeletons, he gives no sign except to try to writhe away from them both, which only makes it harder not to fall on him. “hold still!” Twist’s very helpful response is to roll right into Cash’s arm, knocking it out from under him. Cash scrambles to catch himself, leaning on Twist’s spine in a way that can’t be good, but what else is he supposed to do with his hand stuck inside the ribcage of someone who’s trying to throw him off the bed?!

Twist doesn’t like having someone leaning on his spine, of course, so he very reasonably tries harder to get away, but he can’t get away because Cash’s arm is stuck inside his damn ribcage. Cash is about to give up and just let himself fall on Twist, damn the consequences, when Slim finally manages to get far enough out from under Twist’s pillow to grab Cash’s shoulders and hold him up, letting him get his arm back underneath himself and pull the other one far away from Twist’s ribs.

Finally free to stand up, Cash straightens and tries to catch his breath, watching Twist in horror. He hasn’t stopped writhing, managing to turn himself sideways and tearing at the towel around his hands with his teeth. Slim is trying to turn him back onto his spine, because, oh, right, he probably shouldn’t lie on a bunch of almost broken ribs. Twist isn’t cooperating.

“could i get some help here?” Slim hisses, jolting Cash into action.

“shit. right, of course,” he agrees, taking Twist’s lower body while Slim works on the upper. Between the two of them, they get Twist turned over into a relatively safe position, but he won’t stay there.

“what do we do?” Slim asks, fear on his face.

Cash knows the feeling. Sure, Twist always calms down eventually, but he could do a lot of damage to his cracked ribs before that happens, and what if he can’t calm down at all while he’s restrained? He’s going to break his own ribs. They can’t let that happen. “we need to hold him still. at least until i can finish his ribs.” Hopefully Twist will forgive them.

“you mean… just let him stay like this?”

"i don't know! he's not calming down!"

"maybe he will if we give him a few minutes?"

"does he look like he's going to calm down?" Slim shakes his skull. "maybe he would if we let him go, but we can't do that without him hurting himself." Cash winces as a knee slams into his side. No intent. It's fine. There's no intent. "or us. besides, he said to just keep going no matter what.”

“okay,” Slim whispers. Cash ignores the tears that bead up in Slim’s eyes. There certainly aren’t any in his own, wetness dripping down his face be damned. Damn Twist anyway for making him do this. “how are you going to hold him still and fix his ribs at the same time? i don’t think i can hold him still by myself.”

Cash steels himself for a terrible idea. It’s the best one he’s got. “you get his hands and shoulders. i’m going to sit on him.”

Slim winces, but maneuvers himself back onto the bed so that Twist’s skull is back on the pillow in his lap and his hands are held over his head. Once the position looks secure enough, with Twist stationary and every part of Slim outside of biting range, Cash arranges all of his supplies so they’ll be in easy reach and climbs onto Twist’s legs. Twist shrieks something incomprehensible and furious <strike>and terrified</strike> at him and tries to buck him off, but for all of his desperation he’s still much too weak to manage it. It’s not enough to hold his torso still, but one hand leaning lightly on his spine manages that quite well. Enraged, Twist keeps fighting to get away, still screaming something with the only discernable words being the occasional profanity, until he finally collapses, panting and exhausted.

“Why?” Twist whispers, voice shaking.

“twist? you with us?” No way is it all over that easily.

“Why're ya doin’ this? Patches? Slim?” Any chance he's actually back with them? Probably not.

“we’re just trying to help you,” Slim murmurs, risking taking one hand off of Twist’s to stroke his skull.

Twist laughs. It doesn’t sound much like a laugh. “Help me? Heh. Great job helpin’, sweetheart.” His voice cracks on the last word. “Real helpful.” Dull gold drips from his broken socket. Left over from earlier? Or is whatever makes that happen still happening? Twist doesn’t sound right at all.

“i’m fixing your ribs,” Cash explains. Maybe Twist will understand this time.

Twist just looks resigned. And lost. “Sure.” But he doesn’t protest, and he doesn’t try to get away, so that might be the best they’re going to get.

“try not to move.”

Twist shuts his sockets and nods. “Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

“you asked me to do this.”

“Right.”

Somehow, the calm compliance is worse than the fighting to get away. Twist isn’t panicking, and he isn’t trying to laugh it off. He just does exactly as he’s told, even as Cash finally starts working on those two upper ribs. Twist cries out at the disinfectant before choking off the sound, whimpers and moans as Cash moves across his ribs, gold dripping from the cracks in his socket all the while. He makes a few more weak efforts to pull his hands away from Slim or get out from under Cash, but it never works and usually ends with something painfully like a sob. Twist's not crying. He's not. <strike>He can't.</strike> He's not. But it sure sounds like he is.

After a few minutes of nothing but pained sounds, Twist speaks.

“Hey, Patches?” His voice is hesitant, shaky <strike>like he thinks he’s going to get beaten for it.</strike>

“hmm?” But at least he’s talking. Maybe this is a chance to figure out what’s going on inside his skull.

“What… what’d I do?”

“huh?” Of course, figuring out what’s going on inside Twist’s skull requires getting Twist to make sense, which could take all day.

“Y’know, ta make ya hate me?” Cash’s soul sinks. “What’d I do?”

“what? what do you - ?! where did you get the idea that i hate you?” Fuck, and he sounds like he knows he’s talking to Cash, so he actually thinks Cash hates him. Fucking stars.

“‘cause…” Twist looks down at his ribs and shrugs. “Don’ think you’d do this just fer fun. So I probly made ya hate me. But I can’t r’member what I did.”

“twist…” What do you even say to that? What can he say that won’t warp into something disgusting inside Twist’s skull? “i’m not… i’m not hurting you on purpose!”

Twist raises a browbone, looking down at Cash draped across his legs and pelvis, then up at Slim holding his hands over his skull. “Don’ look much like an accident ta me, sweetheart.”

“i’m not saying it’s an accident. your ribs are broken. i’m fixing them.”

“Uh huh. How’d they get broken, then?”

“you broke them.”

“Did not.”

“yes, you did.”

“Sure, sweetheart. I broke,” he looks down again to inspect his ribs, “ev’ry single one a my ribs, just fer fun. Right.”

“you broke your ribs because you were trying to rip out your soul. i think. hell if i know why you keep doing that,” Cash grumbles.

“Right, ‘cause that’s a thing people do, try ta get ta their souls by goin’ right through their ribcage. Tell me another one, darlin’.”

Cash growls. “look, i told you i don’t know why you did it. i don’t know why you do things even when you _aren’t_ completely fucked in the skull. just stop arguing and let me finish!”

Twist blanches. Every bit of color flows right out of the mana nodes in his face, a stark contrast to the gold that’s never stopped dripping from his socket. Oh, fuck. “twist?”

“Sorry. ‘m sorry. Didn’ mean ta argue. Sorry.”

“it’s fine. i didn’t mean to yell. i’m not mad.”

“Sorry. Sorry, I know better, jus’ fergot ‘cause we used ta… but ya hate me now an’ I _know_ that so I shouldn’ta –”

“i don’t hate you! twist, listen!”

Twist tries to pull his hands away from Slim, then flinches and gives up. “Sorry. I c’n do better. Jus’ gotta –”

“you don’t need to do better! you’re allowed to argue with me. i’m not mad.”

“I won’… sorry, won’ try ta get out, not my place, I don’ get ta… not up ta me ta decide what happens, ‘m not here ta think, jus’ s’posed ta do what I’m told. Know I fucked up. Always fuckin’ up, ain’t yer fault, ‘m always fuckin’ up so ya gotta –”

“what the angel-damned stars are you talking about?” Cash feels sick. Beyond sick. “do you seriously think i’m punishing you for fucking up? what even… do you think i’m torturing you? what could you have possibly done to make me torture you?”

“Dunno – I dunno, don’ matter, done plenty a things ta deserve it. Don’ ever matter which one ‘cause I deserve it. I mean, _fuck_ her ‘cause she ain’t got no room ta talk, but if _you_ think I deserve then I probly do, I mean I know I do ‘cause I’m jus’ some stupid fuckup whorin’ piece ‘a LV-ridden gutter trash, but I was tryna do better but tha’s just stupid ‘cause I ain’t good enough fer this place so I jus’ fucked it all up. Ain’t s’prized, just… I jus’ wanna know what I did.”

“you –! no!” The tone makes Twist flinch, but Cash can’t say it any nicer. “you. did. nothing. you have never done anything that would _ever_ make me want to hold you down and break your ribs.”

Twist shakes his skull frantically. “Did all sortsa shit, darlin'. I ain’t a good guy.”

“what even -?! you know what? maybe you did. i don’t give a shit. you think my hands are clean?”

“I –”

“no. listen to me. the underground was fucked up, at least ours were. maybe someone like edge can figure out how to end up some great, noble royal guard protecting the people or some shit, and i bet he didn’t start out that way either, but you and me, we did what we had to do with the shit hand life dealt us.”

“me too,” Slim adds. “you think i’m really nice, but that’s only when i can get away with it. otherwise, i do what i have to do, too.”

“But I –“

“you did nothing," Cash growls. "you’ve been nothing but stupidly nice to me from the moment we met, even back when i just wanted you to leave me to fucking _die_. even when i spit every decent thing you did for me back in your face. i don’t want to hurt you and you don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Then why…?” Twist tugs lightly on his hands, then looks pleadingly at Cash. “Why’re ya doin’ this? I don’ understand.”

“twist. i need you to listen. i’m trying to explain, but for some reason it’s not getting through. can you listen?”

Twist nods, sockets wide.

“okay. your ribs are hurt really badly. they aren’t quite broken, but they will be if you move too much. you’re also sick. i promise i’ll explain why later, but you’ll just get distracted. the important thing is that your magic isn’t working right, so it’s really important not to break your ribs any worse than they already are. are you following me so far?”

Twist nods, but Twist hasn’t been the most reliable judge of what Twist understands, lately. “tell me what i just told you.”

“My ribs 'er almost broken. I can’t move ‘cause they’ll break more. ‘Cause I’m sick?”

Cash nods. “close enough. now, what i’m doing right now is cleaning them and taping them together. that’s all. can you tell me what i just told you?”

“Yer cleanin’ an’ tapin’ my ribs. But, sweetheart, if that’s all yer doin’, why ya gotta sit on me? An’ why’s Slim got my hands?” Twist shivers. “I really hate that kinda shit.”

“i know you do. we tried not doing it this way, but you were going to hurt yourself.” And please don’t let him remember the part about hurting Slim.

“‘Cause I was movin’ too much?”

“yeah.”

Twist brightens. “I c’n hold still. ‘m really good at keepin’ myself still, jus’ don’ like it when someone makes me.”

Cash shakes his head. “we’ve tried that. it worked for a little while, but then it really didn’t.”

“I c’n do better. Jus’ lemme try again. Please, sweetheart. I c’n do it.”

Almost wavering, Cash glances up at Slim. Twist is asking for what Cash wanted to do in the first place.

Looking pained, Slim shakes his head. Cash nods. “you told us not to. we’re almost done.”

“I- why’d I do that? I can’t… I wouldn’t do that. Why’d I do that?”

“you wanted to get this over with –”

“No! I mean, I do, but that’s not… the hand thing was first. Wasn’ it? ‘Cause that’s why I’m losin’ my shit over so many stupid little things, makin’ it so hard fer you ta fix my ribs, but then that wouldn’t be why ya tied me up in the first place, ‘cause I wasn’ actin’ like this then, I don’ think. Was I? But then what’d I do?”

“why are you so sure you did something wrong? we’re not trying to punish you.”

“But I did! I - I - I killed Slim!”

“you didn’t kill slim!”

“Did too! I remember now. I –“ He cranes his skull back to look at Slim. “‘m sorry. So sorry, sweetheart. You were jus’ tryna help, an’ I killed ya. No wonder ya both wanna hurt me. I wanna hurt me, too.”

Slim’s jaw opens several times before he gets any words out. “twist. i’m not dead. you’re looking right at me. you’re talking to me. i’m talking to you. your skull is in my lap. you didn’t kill me. you keep talking to me, and i tell you i’m not dead, and i don’t know why you can’t get that me talking to you proves you didn’t kill me." He looks to Cash for help, but Cash doesn’t have much help to offer.

“slim isn’t dead. you’re talking to him.” If that's not self-explanatory, Cash doesn't know what is.

“Shouldn’ta… ‘m sorry. Shoulda jus’ stayed in the lab. Safer there. Iggy didn’ let me kill nobody.” Well that’s just a lovely little spike to the soul, but the important thing is that Twist is wrong. He’s very obviously wrong. He’s just being really stubborn about it.

“look, no one here is dead. do you see anyone who’s dead?”

Twist looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Yeah, Slim.”

“how the fuck could slim be talking to you if he's dead?”

“Probly ‘cause my stupid skull’s just as good as any other when it comes ta makin’ up random shit that ain’t really there when it’s busy crumblin’ inta tiny fuckin’ pieces. Fer all I know, you ain’t here, either, sweetheart, so don’ go actin’ like nothin’s obvious.”

“why would you make up me sitting on top of you pouring disinfectant on your ribs?”

“Why would I make up killin’ Slim? Think it’s pretty safe ta say I’ve already lost my mind, darlin', ‘less there really are a buncha little spiders crawlin’ round my ribs an’ ya jus’ don’ think it’s worth mentioning.

“what – there aren’t any spiders. no spiders. just me, _slim_, you, and a bunch of medical supplies that i’d really like to finish using on your ribs. do you remember that’s what i’m trying to do?”

Twist squints at him. “Really?” Cash nods, browbone raised. “Huh. Guess I do kinda remember that. So that means yer probly real, right?”

“i’m definitely real. so is slim.”

“But…” Twist looks up at Slim. “But I killed ya, sweetheart. I know I did.”

“you didn’t,” Slim insists. “i’m real and i’m alive. not dust. you can see i’m not dust. you can hear me talking. i don’t know how else to convince you.”

“C’n see and hear a lotta other things, too. Rather you be the real one, but I got no way of knowing.”

“like what? what else are you seeing and hearing?”

Twist shudders. “Lotsa things. Or nothin’. Look, sweetheart, I dunno anythin’. Think I keep fergettin’ things I already knew about. I think… I dunno. Can’t keep anythin’ straight. I jus’… jus’ wish I could know if yer really here.” Twist tugs on his hands, winces, and stops.

“i am really here.”

“I know ya _say_ that, darlin', but she keeps sayin’ it too, an’ she seems ta fit the rest a what’s goin’ on better ‘n you do.”

“what do you mean?”

“'s just... I jus’ don’ think you’d do this ta me, y'know? Or Patches, either. But she’d be happy ta do it, so I think I mighta had it all backwards, an' she’s the one that’s real an' yer the one that's just in my head. So it’s real nice ta still get ta talk to ya an’ all that, but I don’ think that means I didn’t kill ya. Wish it did, but I shoulda known I couldn’t keep ya. Just wish ya hadn’t got all tangled up with me in the first place. Or Patches either. He’s probly dead, too.”

“didn’t we already establish that i’m not dead?” Cash grumbles, not really expecting Twist to pay any attention.

Twist nods. “Yeah, guess we did. ‘cept if she’s figured out how ta fuck with my skull this much, I don’ think I c’n count on that bein’ true, either.”

“this is a pretty involved conversation to be having between you and two dead people in your skull.”

“Yeah, well, pretty sure whatever happened broke me down far enough that I’m not qualified ta judge what’s a reasonable conversation anymore. Fer one thing, I think I oughta still be losin’ my mind ‘bout a whole lotta things right now, so the fact that I’m not might mean I’m already lost. Just wouldn’t think I’d be so calm. Maybe I’m tired. C’n I go ta sleep now? ‘m sure she’ll wake me up when she wants somethin’.”

Twist is so fucked up right now. What can Cash even say to someone who’s this confused? He's not getting better, either.

“twist?” Slim asks.

“Hmm?”

“what would prove to you that we’re real?”

“What’d’ya mean?”

“i mean, what could we do that would prove that we’re the real ones and not, umm, her?”

Twist shakes his skull sadly. “I dunno, sweetheart. Whole lotta things I’d like ta do with you that’d be a whole lot diff’rent than they’d be with her, but that’s never gonna happen now.”

“what if it could? i mean, depending on what you’re thinking about, a lot of it might be a really bad idea, but what if i just… can i hug you?”

Twist’s sockets close, and he turns his face away. “That sure would be diff’rent, sweetheart. Whole lot diff’rent ta get a hug from you than a ‘hug’ from her. But it ain’t ever gonna happen. ‘s too late fer any more a that.”

“it’s not,” Slim insists.

“Heh, if you say so, darlin’. But let’s leave off tryin’ it fer a while, a’right? Lemme keep ya around fer a little bit longer, ‘fore I gotta go back ta where I actually am.” He starts to shift, almost as if to move out from underneath Cash, then stops himself, mouthing what looks like “bad idea.” No need to speculate why he thinks trying to get away from someone sitting on his pelvis is a bad idea. Fuck. How did they get to this point, and more importantly, how do they get out of it?

Slim looks lost for a moment. Then he sets his jaw. “you know what? you’re wrong. it’s not your fault, but you’re wrong, and i’m going to prove it. don’t freak out. i’m going to pick you up now. kind of.”

“What? Sweetheart, stop! Don’t –”

But Slim doesn’t listen, just moves Twist’s pillow of the way, then lifts his shoulders up so Slim can scoot down behind him. Twist is very confused. “Sweetheart? What’cha doin’?” but as Slim wraps his arms around him, Twist leans back against him. “Oh.” Relief washes over his face. “It is you. Ain’t it? Are ya… yer really alive?

“yeah.”

“I didn’ kill ya?”

“no, you didn’t.”

" 'cause ya feel real, and stars, sweetheart, I really want ya ta be real, so are ya really real? Not dust?"

"not dust. i'm real."

“I – and Patches? Cash? Yer really Patches?”

“yeah.”

Suddenly, it feels really awkward to be sitting in Twist’s lap. Cash scoots backwards, until, “Where ya goin’, darlin’?” Towel-wrapped hands slide over his head and pull him right up against the ribs he was being so careful about.

“watch out for your ribs!

“They’re fine. I don’ – you did a real good job fixin’ ‘em up, darlin'.”

“that’s not –!” he can feel the shakiness in each breath rattling up through his skull, so he stops struggling. Apparently, Twist needs this. “okay. it’s okay. we can just do this for a while.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“do you believe we’re real now?” Slim asks. “and no one hates you?”

Twist huffs. “Probly somebody out there hates me, darlin’. C’n think of a few people off the top a my head. But no, I don’ think it’s either of you.”

“thank the fucking angel,” Cash mutters.

“Yeah,” Twist agrees. “Thank somebody.” His breathing gets shaky. “I – I can’t believe… are ya really real? An’ ya don’t hate me?”

“why would i hate you?”

“No reason, I guess.” Something is still wrong with his breathing. “No reason at all.” His voice is tight. His breaths are harsh. What’s wrong? “No – no reason ta… ta –” His breath catches. Oh. Cash gets it.

Cash brings his arms up around twist, feeling Slim doing the same from the other side, wrapping Twist in comfort as he does the closest thing he can do to sobbing.

“I – I – I jus’… I thought…”

“we know,” Slim soothes. “everything’s going to be alright.”

“Jus’… an’ I never know what the fuck is happenin’ anymore, an’ I _did_ almos’ kill ya, I know that was real, an’…”

“it’s okay. i’m fine. we fixed it.”

“An’… and I can’t move, an’ I know it’s my fault ‘cause I asked fer this an’ it’s all so I don’ kill ya but it fucks with my head so much I can’t even tell ya ‘cause it don’ make no sense anyway ‘cause I should damn well be over that by now an’ I thought I mostly _was,_ ‘cept now I keep losin’ my shit ev’ry time anythin’ goes wrong an’ I jus’ don’ wanna _do_ this anymore.”

Hearing Twist talk like that, it just… it makes Cash wish he was better at this. Better at anything other than being an asshole. Twist needs someone better than an asshole, but Slim seems to have run out of words, leaving it all to the guy who’s mainly just an asshole. Fantastic.

“twist…” but what the hell would a non-asshole say to all that?

“Yeah, Patches?” Just listen to Twist, sounding like he expects Cash to have something worthwhile to say. Like Cash can save him from all those fucking knives that keep stabbing into his soul.

“twist…” Well don’t just keep saying his name! “look. okay, first of all…” First of all what? It’s not like he has advice! “first of all, it’s not stupid to be upset. or ridiculous, or anything else. that’s… i think that’s normal?” Right, because Cash is one to talk about handling problems like a normal person. Yep, nothing but normal, here. “i think that’s a thing normal people do when everything sucks. get upset. and cry, and yell, and – and still be upset years later when something reminds them of it. i think that’s normal. normal people do that. probably.”

“Ya think so?” Well, Twist sounds a little calmer, so maybe the bullshit falling out of Cash’s mouth is helping. Somehow. Hard to know without seeing Twist’s face, but he’s kind of pinned in, and he’s not going to try pulling away if Twist has decided he wants to be the center of a skeleton sandwich. Even if it is probably bad for his ribs.

“i know so.” Bullshit. Cash doesn’t know anything. But Twist’s breathing is smoothing out, and the arms looped over Cash’s shoulders aren’t clinging for dear life quite so much as they were a minute ago, so maybe it’s helpful bullshit.

“maybe we should finish up and all take a nap,” Slim suggests, and Cash has never heard a better idea in his life. “and we can get twist’s hands out of that towel.”

“Please?” Twist asks. “I don’… I mean, I wanna keep ya safe, both a ya, but please lemme out. Please. I c’n… I dunno. Figure somethin’ out. But I can’t… please, somebody, I don’ know what ta do but I jus’ can’t… ‘s makin’ me worse, I know it is. But I know it’s dang’rous an’ I don’ wanna hurt nobody –”

Enough of this. “twisted. listen. we’re getting you out of that towel.”

“But –”

“no buts. you’re right that it’s just making you worse. i’ve never seen you get this bad for this long. let me up so i can get it off of you.”

“Don’ wanna hurt ya.”

“you’re squishing my skull into your ribs. if you wanted to hurt me, you could do it pretty easily right now. i’ll actually be safer after i get up.”

“But Slim –”

“you’re on top of him. again, everyone will be safer when we aren’t all tangled up together. not that we aren’t already safe. just let me up.”

“Okay,” Twist whimpers, lifting his arms over Cash’s head. Finally free to move, Cash climbs off of Twist and stretches his spine. “Sorry I squished ya.”

“it’s fine. everything’s fine. let’s just get rid of the towel.” He digs through the first aid supplies. Ah hah! Scissors. “here, just hold still.” With a couple of snips, the towel comes free, except for a few places where threads have worked their way into the joints. Twist tugs at them with another whimper. “just a second.” With a little more effort, Cash pulls them free.

There’s really no way to describe the sound Twist makes, some kind of moan/sigh/whimper/sob thing, who even knows, as he brings his hands up to his face and watches his fingers move freely. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he whispers, still watching his hands.

“should have done it earlier,” Cash mutters under his breath. Twist doesn't care, just keeps watching his hands.

“hey, twist?” Slim asks.

“Hmm?” Twist blinks, then turns his skull to look behind him. “Oh! Sorry, darlin’! I fergot. Gotta be squishin’ you, too. Lemme just…” Whatever Twist was ‘just’ going to do doesn’t work out so well. He pushes off of Slim’s ribcage, then promptly starts to topple over. “Shit!” He flails to catch himself, but Slim grabs him before he can fall.

“i’ve got you,” Slim murmurs against his skull, holding him close. “you’re okay. i’ve got you.”

“Heh.” Twist reaches up to rub his neck, pauses, then keeps doing it, a small smile on his face. “Guess ya do. Thanks, sweetheart.”

“how about you just stay right here for now?”

“Probly a good idea. If ya don’ mind? Not squishin’ ya, am I?”

Slim shakes his head. Twist must feel it from where his skull rests against Slim’s jawbone, because he shuts his sockets and relaxes. “Okay, then. Patches, didn’t ya say somethin’ ‘bout not being done with my ribs? Or do I remember wrong? I could easily be wrong.”

“you’re not wrong, but it’s just a couple more scratches. they’re small. it’ll only take a minute.”

“Oh.” Twist pauses, grits his teeth, then forces air through them. “Think… uh… sweetheart… umm… ya think… just in case… maybe, ‘cause I’m kinda better now… so maybe we should tie my hands up again?”

“no!” Cash and Slim both shout. Cash has never meant anything more emphatically in his life.

“Okay.” Twist smiles. He snuggles up against Slim’s jacket, still smiling. He’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

Finishing the rest of Twist’s ribs is very anticlimactic. He winces a few times, and whimpers a little bit, but never forgets where he is or decides Cash is punishing him for killing Slim. He even turns his face into the fluff of Slim’s jacket for comfort, and keeps it there after Cash tapes on the last little bandage. Then they're done, just the cleanup left.

Cash kind of expects something to have changed by the time he comes back from getting rid of all the medical supplies, maybe for Slim to have tucked Twist in and taken over the chair by the bed, but the scene he returns to is barely different from the one he left. They’ve shifted a little bit so that Twist is no longer on top of Slim, and Slim has somehow managed to remove his jacket in the midst of Twist clinging to him like a limpet. It’s pretty much the _softest_ scene Cash has ever seen in his life, but instead of making him roll his eyelight like such a thing usually would, it’s doing something to his soul that just… ugh. Who even knows what it’s doing to his soul? It’s weird. Fuck off.

“cash?” Slim whispers, startling Cash out of his unacceptably weird thoughts.

“he asleep?” Twist looks like he might be.

Slim shrugs.

Cash shifts. Maybe he should step into the room. Standing in the doorway is weird. “i’ve got everything cleaned up. is everything alright in here?” Or maybe he should leave. Everything’s getting too soft. Slim’s got it covered.

Slim nods.

“okay. uh… guess i’ll just take a seat.” He heads towards the chair. If no one else is going to use it, he might as well.

“No,” Twist mumbles, startling Cash. Guess he wasn’t asleep. Also, no?

“i shouldn’t take a seat?” Does Twist want him to go away? He wanted him to stay earlier, but Cash hasn’t exactly done a great job of taking care of him this time around, and he seems pretty content snuggled up with Slim. Except now he’s trying to lift his head, and Slim is helping him, supporting his skull because he’s clearly too tired to hold it up at that angle, and no, no, no, Twist’s supposed to be resting! “hey, don’t get up. lay down.” He needs to sleep!

“You too.”

“huh?”

“You too, darlin’. You lay down too.” Twist bats at the air behind him.

“you sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure. Right here.” Twist’s hand finally finds the bed. He pats it. “Got a spot saved for ya.” He lets his skull fall into Slim’s hand. Slim lowers it gently to the bed. “If ya want it.”

“if i…” If Cash could find a few semi-intelligent words right about now, that would be great. It’s not a big deal. It’s not. It just kind of feels like Twist is offering more than a place to take a nap. It’s all too soft.

“If ya want it, darlin’. Don’ gotta. But it’d be nice.” Twist snuggles closer against Slim’s ribcage. “Do what ya want. I’m goin’ ta sleep.”

“i…” Why does it matter so much? This is stupid. He should leave. Slim’s got this.

Slim turns to look at Cash. He raises both browbones. He pats the bed, the same place Twist was patting. Then he waits.

Fuck it. It’s been a long day. A long week. Cash is tired. They’re all tired. Who cares what it means? He kicks off his shoes and climbs in.

“Toldja it was nap time, sweetheart,” Twist mumbles, proving the bastard in incapable of just going to sleep, already. He always has to talk.

“we should all get some sleep,” Slim agrees, very kindly not commenting as Cash presses up against Twist and drapes an arm over both of them. “wouldn’t want to fall asleep during movie night.”

“movie night?” Cash asks. Whose bright idea was it to plan a movie night?

“yeah, movie night. twist wanted to do something fun, and that seemed easier than a lot of the other options. everyone’s coming over, i think. unless you’re too tired, twist? we can always cancel.”

“Don’ wanna cancel,” Twist murmurs into Slim’s shirt.

“okay, we won’t cancel. go to sleep.”

“Mhmm.”

Twist is warm between the two of them. Not hot, just comfortably warm <strike>and snuggly</strike>. The bed is soft. Slim’s shirt feels good under his hand. Slim’s arm reaching over to pull him closer into the <strike>snuggle pile</strike>, fuck it, it _is_ a snuggle pile, feels good too. Twist’s breathing is steady and calm. Slim’s arm relaxes but stays comfortably draped over them both. There are a million things that could go wrong. A thousand of those probably will. But that’s for later. Right now, it’s nap time, and Cash isn’t leaving this spot. He lets the nearly silent purr rising from Twist's ribcage lull him into sleep.


	36. Chapter 36

Twist wakes up surrounded by warmth, snuggled into someone’s shirt. Someone else is snuggled up against his back. They both have their arms around him. He grins. Must have been a good night.

He nuzzles into the shirt his face is buried in. Mmm, soft cotton over bone. That narrows down who it might be. He presses up against the one behind him. Hmm, that one’s got nothing but clothes over his bones, too. This is getting more and more interesting. Which pair of his friends did he talk into bed with him?

Trying to sit up to get a better look sends sharp pain shooting through his ribs. He collapses back to the bed, panting. Better stay put. What did he get up to last night, anyway? And with who?

The skeleton behind him shifts a little bit and pulls him closer. A fond smile creeps over Twist's face. Whoever it is is pretty cuddly. That probably rules out a few people. Too bad, too. It’d be fun to wake up with Cash wrapped around him like this. The idea almost seems familiar, feeling Cash crawling into bed behind him, some mumbled conversation between him and Slim as Twist drifts off to sleep. Sounds nice. Sounds familiar.

Twist shakes his skull. Like that’s ever going to happen. Cash is as prickly as a cactus, and he’s not going to let that guard down for Twist. For Slim, maybe, if everyone plays their cards right, but given that Twist is the one in the middle of this cuddly little skeleton pile, that probably isn’t what happened. Might have been a nice dream, though. Maybe if he goes back to sleep he can hold on to it for a while.

The doorbell brings him out of a light doze. It brings the other two awake, too, the one behind him shooting upright.

“shit! what – twist! twist, are you okay?”

Is that… What the fuck? Is that Cash? _Cash_ was the one wrapped around him like a babybones with a teddy bear?

“don’t yell at him,” the one in front of him mumbles. Is that Slim? Has Twist seriously been sleeping between Cash and Slim? How did that happen?

“didn’t you hear the alarm?! that means something’s wrong with his hp. shit, i shouldn’t have fallen asleep. someone needs to watch him. just a second, twist. just hold on a second, i’ll take care of it.” Cash scrambles out of the bed, climbing over Twist’s legs and stumbling to the floor.

“i don’t think i heard an alarm.” Slim props himself up on his elbows, leaving Twist behind in bed alone. So much for a peaceful nap between friends. “i don’t hear one now, anyway. isn’t it supposed to keep going?”

“i don’t know, but there isn’t time to figure it out. twist could be dying. we’ve got to get his hp up.”

“Uh, guys…” They seem to be making some pretty big assumptions, ones Twist would be happy to correct if they'd just calm down a second.

“he’s talking, so doesn’t that mean he’s okay? or, wait, he did talk that other time, too, and he almost died anyway, so i guess that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Guys, I’m…”

“don’t waste your energy talking,” Cash warns him. “we already know there’s a problem. just give me a second and i’ll fix it.”

“But sweetheart –”

“why isn’t the alarm working? is it broken?”

“shit, it could be. if it is, his hp could have been dropping this whole time, and we slept through the whole damn thing!” Cash opens the box with the magic vial. Oh _fuck_ no, he’s not giving Twist one of those when he doesn’t need it.

“i didn’t know it could do that.”

“me neither, but we’ll deal with it later. right now –”

“Guys! Cash. Slim. Shut up fer a second.”

“there’s no time –”

“but what about –”

“Just shut up an’ listen!” Twist snaps. “Just fer a second.” Their jaws snap shut. “Now, what’s all this about?” It was such a nice nap, too, before people started trying to stick needles in his soul.

“your hp alarm went off.” Cash picks up one of the syringes.

“No it didn’t.”

“yes it did. i heard it.”

“No ya didn’t, cause I’m fine.” Which seems pretty obvious, given that they're having this conversation. Maybe Cash isn’t really awake yet? He's always extra grumpy in the morning.

“you can’t be fine. the alarm always means your hp’s dropping.”

Is that what all this panic is about? “Pretty sure the only ‘alarm’ I heard just means someone’s standin’ at the front door, darlin', considerin’ how much it sounded like my doorbell.”

“it – oh.” Cash puts the vial back in the box, a hint of purple rising on his cheekbone. “it sounded like the hp alarm.”

“Sure it did, sweetheart.” Maybe to someone who’s gotten paranoid about even the slightest chance of anything being wrong with Twist. Which is kind of understandable, but still! All this over a doorbell. “Now, how ‘bout you two work on gettin’ yer clothes back in order so someone c’n go answer the door?" Twist grins. "Or you could answer the door just like that. I sure wouldn’t mind any assumptions anybody might make ‘bout what we mighta been doin’ in 'ere.” Just how long can Cash keep that blush going? Probably best not to push it. <strike>He might just leave</strike>. Definitely best not to push it.

“i’ll get the door,” Slim says, pulling his jacket over his rumpled shirt. He definitely seems the least flustered out of the pair of them, which makes sense based on what little Twist remembers of how they all ended up cuddled up in bed together. Should have guessed that if anyone could get Cash relaxed enough to cuddle up together in bed, it’d be Slim. Too bad the memories drifting back into his skull don’t show anything nearly as fun as what Twist imagined in the sleepy early hours of the… well, afternoon, probably. Not exactly how he’d ever thought of getting the two of them in bed together, but really, he can’t complain. Just getting Cash there at all is more than he expected. Might even be a good sign for it happening again sometime, maybe after something a little more enjoyable than their earlier activities… better not think too much about that.

Slim must have gotten to the door, because a sudden a wave of commotion washes up the stairs. Twist and Cash exchange looks with wide sockets, a little overwhelmed by the influx of noise.

“Guess they’re here fer movie night.”

“guess so.” Apparently deciding his clothes are as good as they’re going to get, Cash heads out to the stairs. “i’ll take a look.”

“WEALTHY-ME!” Papyrus exclaims. “IS TWISTED-ME READY TO COME JOIN US?”

“Or is he trying to sleep," Edge asks wryly, "in which case he probably doesn’t appreciate someone yelling up the stairs?” Good old Edge, trying to make people be sensible. Good luck with that. Twist shakes his skull, smiling. He loves these guys.

“NONSENSE, EDGY-ME. TWISTED-ME WOULD NEVER WANT TO MISS OUT ON MOVIE NIGHT! CERTAINLY NOT FOR A NAP!” Papyrus pauses. “BLUE! COME UPSTAIRS WITH ME. WE’LL SEE IF TWISTED-ME IS READY TO COME DOWN.”

“Of course! Just let me set this down in the kitchen.”

“hey, guys?” Slim asks, hesitantly. “twist had kind of a rough afternoon, so he might be kind of tired, so could you not –”

“Certainly!” Blue chirps. “We’ll set him up a nice, comfortable place on the couch where he can rest, and he won’t have to do anything!”

“Except deal with an invasion of the league of hyperactivity into his house.”

“c’mon, boss. they’re just excited about movie night. ain’tcha, creampuff?”

“YES! AND MAINLY ABOUT THE CHANCE TO HELP TWISTED-ME FEEL BETTER BY DISTRACTING HIM FROM HIS TROUBLES.”

“Perhaps that would work better if you tried it at a slightly lower volume.”

“OH! THAT’S AN EXCELLENT POINT, AND ONE I TEND NOT TO THINK OF, MYSELF. THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME, EDGY-ME.”

Cash steps back into Twist’s room, closing the door. “well, ready for the invasion of the ravening hoard?”

Twist chuckles. “Sounds like they’re comin’ whether I’m ready for ‘em or not.”

“i’ll kick them out if you want me to. edge might help.”

“Nah, movie night still sounds fun. ‘sides, they’re just tryna help. Wouldn’t wanna discourage nobody from helpin’.”

“some help, barging in and waking everybody up.”

“They rang the doorbell an’ waited ta be let in, darlin’. That’s hardly bargin’ in. Plus it’s the middle of the afternoon. Can’t expect they’d expect we’d be sleepin’.” Twist snorts. “Mighta been funny if they _had_ all barged right in. Wonder what they woulda thought?”

“i’m sure they’d manage to be completely obnoxious about it.”

“Probly.” Twist shrugs. “Here they come.”

“TWISTED-ME!” Papyrus doesn’t quite burst through the door, but he’s not far from it.

“Heya, Papyrus. How ya doin’, sweetheart?”

“I’M QUITE WELL, THANK YOU, BUT SHOULDN’T I BE THE ONE ASKING YOU THAT? I’VE HEARD THAT YOU’VE HAD A DIFFICULT AFTERNOON.”

“Eh, kinda. Wasn’t too bad. Just ain’t at my best at the moment. But how ‘bout that movie night, huh? What're we watchin’?”

“I HAVEN’T THE SLIGHTEST IDEA.”

“We thought you might like to pick the movie,” Blue interjects. “Since it’s your movie night, after all.”

“My movie night, huh?” Twist chuckles. “Didn’t know we had movie nights fer particular people.”

Blue sighs in exasperation. “Well of course we don’t, usually, but these are special circumstances! We’re here to cheer you up.”

“Well consider me cheered, darlin’. Hard ta be in a bad mood with you two around.” Their enthusiasm really is contagious. Everything actually feels pretty good at the moment.

“Some people could probably manage it,” Edge remarks dryly from the doorway.

“Oh, c’mon, Edgelord. Nothin’ wrong with bringin’ a little sunshine in ‘ere. Stars know I could use some.”

“THAT’S RIGHT. THERE’S NOTHING THAT A LITTLE POSITIVITY CAN’T CURE! WELL, EXCEPT FOR MOST INJURIES. AND QUITE A FEW EMOTIONAL STATES. AND PERHAPS CERTAIN PROBLEMS WITH SOCIETY AS A WHOLE… WELL, ANYWAY, A LITTLE POSITIVITY CAN’T HURT.”

“you tell ‘em, creampuff.” Red sticks his skull in the room, nudging his way under Edge’s elbow. “popcorn’s ready.”

Raising a browbone, Edge picks Red up by his jacket and sets him inside the room. “Were you the one who made it, runt?”

“me?” Red snorts. “nah. rus’s got it covered.”

“Good. I think I’ve nearly got him trained to the point that he can be trusted to make popcorn by himself without burning it.”

“Edge!” Blue cries indignantly. “Papy can make popcorn!”

“Have you ever let him try?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Then my point stands. Besides, now he can.” Edge frowns. “With… minimal supervision.”

“PERHAPS IT’S TIME TO MOVE EVERYONE DOWNSTAIRS TO GET THE MOVIE STARTED. AND CHECK ON THE POPCORN.”

“Oh, of course!” Blue chirps. “No reason to stand around up here all night. Now, how are we going to get Twist downstairs? I assume he’s not going to be walking, so –”

“‘how about you all shut up for a second so twist can tell you what he wants to do,” Cash growls. Edge bristles, and Blue and Papyrus slightly deflate, but they all turn to look expectantly at Twist.

“Hey, don’ look at me like that. I’m all on board fer movie night. Just gotta get downstairs, and yeah, sweetheart,” he nods at Blue, “yer right that I’m not gonna be walkin’. So who’s up fer carryin’ me?” Not that he’s really looking forward to being carried down the stairs, especially with the current state of his ribs, but now that the offer to get out of this room has been made, he’s not sure he can stay in it a minute longer.

The others apparently notice the ribs problem, all of them zeroing in on his bandaged ribcage.

“WOULD TELEPORTING WORK?” Papyrus suggests, turning to Cash. “COULDN’T YOU OR RED JUST TAKE HIM RIGHT TO THE COUCH?”

“only if twist doesn’t mind falling a foot or so when we get there.”

Now wait, that doesn’t sound right. “Didn’t ya teleport ta get me here? And Red teleported me inta bed. Didn’t ya, sweetheart?”

Red nods, but frowns. “yeah, but that’s different.”

“right,” Cash nods. “i was carrying you when we left the lab, so there was nowhere for you to fall, and i bet red was standing on the floor next to you so you were already at the same height. and he could probably see where he was going.”

“yep,” Red confirms. “it’s a lot harder ta teleport somebody who’s already on a different level than you and then put them somewhere else that’s on a whole different level than that, ‘specially when ya can’t see where yer goin’. unless cash remembers exactly how tall the couch is and how that compares to the bed, twist’d probly end up falling. i sure wouldn’t wanna risk it, not with those ribs”

“no one’s risking it,” Cash states. “no one’s carrying him down the stairs, either. i put too much work into those ribs. teleporting will be fine if i pick him up first.” He leans over the bed and reaches for Twist, very carefully pulling him close before lifting him off the bed. “good thing you’re a skeleton,” he mutters. Understandable, because Twist would probably be pretty heavy as a fleshy monster, but what’s more interesting to Twist is the way he presses Twist up against his own ribs, way more than he should need for a quick teleport downstairs. It’s almost like he wants to be holding Twist. In front of other people, even!

Twist puts an arm over Cash’s shoulder. “Why, sweetheart! If I’da known all I had ta do ta get you ta sweep me off my feet was ta set my soul on fire and break all my ribs, I’da –”

“shut. up.” Cash growls, almost not blushing. Almost. “if you could stand on your feet, i wouldn’t be doing this. there's no sweeping.”

“‘Course not, sweetheart. ‘Course not.”

“watch it, or you can find your own way downstairs.” But he doesn’t put Twist back in bed, if anything, holding him closer. That almost-blush is mesmerizing as it makes its way half way across Cash’s nasal aperture, which is… wrinkling up?”

“ugh, you stink.” Oh, that explains it. Yeah, he probably kind of does. Kind of breaks the mood, though. Not that there should be a mood to be broken. Things might be getting a little too serious. Can't let that happen. <strike>Cash will leave.</strike> Gotta lighten up.

“Didn’t seem ta mind that when-“

“shut it.” Hah. Blush deepened, seriousness averted.

“Okay, okay, ain’t sayin’ nothin’, darlin'. But I probly do kinda stink.” Skeletons can go longer without a bath than fleshy monsters, but it’s been a tough few days.

“maybe we should make a stop at the bathtub.”

“Ooh, gonna join me?”

“more like dump you in.”

“Too bad. Still might be a good –” <strike>walls all around him bones tied together why zip ties? _what does she want?!_</strike> Shit, is he scared of _baths_ now? Fucking Iggy. <strike>_She was just trying to help._</strike> Didn’t have to help like _that_. “C’n we jus’ go watch the movie?” His voice didn't catch, because that would be stupid. It didn't.

Cash frowns, squeezing his arm. “yeah.” With a single step, they’re downstairs.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Blue shouts, running down the stairs to catch up. “We haven’t set up the couch yet. Unless any of you…” He looks from Rus leaning in the kitchen doorframe munching on some popcorn, to Razz glaring at the movie shelf as if he can command the movie he wants to jump into his hands, to Sans apparently napping in the armchair, to Slim standing at the bottom of the stairs looking worriedly at Twist. “No, of course you didn’t,” he sighs. Shaking his skull, he calls up the stairs, “bring some pillows and blankets when you come down.”

“ON IT!” Papyrus shouts back, as if his normal voice wouldn’t carry well enough.

Twist fondly shakes his skull. Looks like his couch-bed might take a few minutes, but they’ll take care of it. “Hey, Patches?”

“what?” Cash doesn’t even sound grumpy. He sounds... worried, maybe? A little bit? He’s not worried about Twist, is he? Surely Twist didn’t have _that_ strong of a reaction to the stupid bath thing. It was only for a second or two.

“Wanna set me down somewhere while we wait? Don’t gotta carry me around all day, sweetheart.”

“i’m fine.”

“Ya sure? I really wouldn’t mind curlin’ up on some nice comfy patch of floor.”

“i’m not putting you on the floor.”

“Okay,” Twist agrees, letting his skull loll over onto Cash’s shoulder. Moving around is a lot of work. He glances over at his couch-bed. “What’s the holdup with the couch?”

“you seem to have a blanket shortage,” Slim announces, coming over to join them.

“Thought we had a lotta blankets.” Blackberry would never risk not having enough for guests or for cold winter nights, not that it ever gets as cold here as it did in Snowdin.

Slim shrugs. “apparently not anymore.”

“What happened to 'em all?” Well, there was that one that got used as a bandage for Blackberry’s skull, and probably several that Twist shredded… “Nevermind,” he sighs. Blackberry is not going to be pleased when he realizes how many blankets Twist has gone through in the past few days, and that's not even getting into all the towels. Maybe some of them just need a little patching up? Hopefully.

“The couch is ready, if you three are finished discussing your wanton destruction of Twist’s belongings,” Edge calls.

“So you guys did find another blanket?” Twist asks.

Edge snorts. “More like borrowed the most intact one from your bed. The others will take more effort to salvage.”

“I’d be happy to run home and get a fresh one,” Blue offers, looking skeptically at the slightly torn blanket.

Twist shakes his skull. “Thanks, but no thanks, darlin'. I’ve already made enough of a mess fer my bro ta deal with. Don’ need ta start tearin’ yer stuff up, too.”

“Well, alright, if you’re sure.”

“IT WOULD BE NO TROUBLE AT ALL TO GO BUY A FRESH BLANKET, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO USE ONE OF OURS,” Papyrus offers. Man, they really don’t want to put Twist on a torn up blanket, do they? The consideration is nice, if a little unnecessary.

“Nope, don’ need one. Seriously, darlin’, I appreciate the offer, but whatever ya give me’s probly just gonna get caught on my claws at some point. That one ya got there’s nice an’ soft, an’ I’m perfectly happy with it.”

“IT HARDLY SEEMS RIGHT TO PUT YOU ON A TORN UP BLANKET WHEN YOU’RE… ILL? INJURED? WHATEVER YOU ARE.”

“All of the above, maybe?" Twist shrugs. "But seriously, blankets are the least of my worries. And ya even brought my pillows! The whole thing looks real comfy, so stop fussin’ with it. Don’t think Patches planned ta carry me around all night.”

“definitely not,” Cash grumbles, but the care with which he lays Twist on the couch belies his irritation. It’s almost tempting to hold on, to see if Cash will stay on the couch with him, but no. Cash has already let Twist get all cuddly with him in front of several different people today. Better not push it. <strike>He'll leave.</strike>

Especially not with the way Edge is eying them, browbone raised and a hint of amusement in his sockets. Twist tries to convey how much he’d better not say anything about it through his own expression, but the threat probably loses something through the two chattering skeletons rushing around to tuck him in and make sure his pillows are arranged just right. Edge rolls his eyelights, but says nothing about it as he goes to check on the results of Rus’s popcorn cooking venture. Twist breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing anyone needs to do is start poking at Cash for being uncharacteristically not a dick. Twist would like to avoid another disappearing act from him, thank you very much. <strike>Please don't leave.</strike>

“ARE YOU WARM ENOUGH, TWISTED-ME? I’M SURE WE COULD FIND ANOTHER BLANKET SOMEWHERE IF YOU’RE COLD. OR MAYBE SOMEONE WOULD LIKE TO JOIN YOU ON THE COUCH FOR ADDED WARMTH.”

“Huh?” Twist blinks, trying to focus on Papyrus. “Oh, uh… Nah, I’m good, sweetheart. Thanks, though.” Then the second part of what he said registers. “Uh… somebody could join me on the couch if they wanted. Don’t need the whole thing ta myself.” No reason for one person to take up the whole couch. Living room real estate is at a premium when they all get together.

“EXCELLENT! WEALTHY-ME, TWISTED-ME IS COLD. COME SIT WITH HIM AND HELP HIM WARM UP.”

“Wait, that’s not what I –”

“twist? what’s wrong?” Cash sticks his skull out of the kitchen, where he probably retreated to get away from all the touchy-feely bullshit. What’s Papyrus doing?

“Papyrus!" Twist growls. "C’mon, darlin’, I’m fine! Cash don’t gotta –”

“NONSENSE! WE DON’T HAVE ENOUGH CLEAN BLANKETS AND THERE’S NO REASON YOU SHOULD BE ALL BY YOURSELF ON THE COUCH.”

“I’m really fine.” He'll be less fine if Papyrus scares Cash away.

Cash scowls, walking towards them. “you always say you’re fine. i’m more inclined to believe papyrus. what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’s wrong! I dunno why he called ya over here. I’m fine.”

“uh huh.” Cash scrutinizes Twist intently.

“WELL, I’M SURE YOU TWO WILL WORK IT OUT. HERE,” Papyrus lifts Twist’s skull, removing one of the pillows, ignoring Twist's startled frown. “WHY DON’T YOU JUST SIT DOWN RIGHT HERE SO YOU CAN TALK MORE EASILY.”

“what are you -” but before Cash can finish, Papyrus lifts Twist a little higher, gives Cash a little push, and the next thing Twist knows his skull is being gently laid right into the lap of a sputtering Cash. Umm...

“Heya, Patches. Uh, fancy seein’ you here!” Did Papyrus really just–?

“THERE, ISN’T THAT BETTER?” Papyrus smiles.

“what did you do?!” Cash yells.

“I’LL JUST GO SEE IF THEY NEED ANY HELP IN THE KITCHEN.”

“get your ass back here right now!” But Papyrus pretends not to hear Cash’s rage.

“Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.” Twist tries for a conciliatory smile. It might hold a little too much amusement to really succeed. Or fear. Honestly hard to tell which one it is. “I tried ta tell ya I was fine. Tried ta tell him, too.”

“how did that stupid motherfucker even –”

“Hey, is it really so bad? Gotta say, I’m likin’ my new pillow arrangement.” Unless Cash decides to leave. Oh, fuck, what if he leaves? That’s why Twist didn’t push it. Cash could leave. Pushing too hard makes him leave. Please don’t disappear again. Why did Papyrus do this? Cash could leave!

“it’s…” Cash looks into Twist’s sockets. Something in his face softens. “no. it’s fine. we’re fine.”

Twist sighs in relief. Cash isn't leaving. “Thanks, sweetheart. Thanks.”

“don’t thank me, just –” He looks around the room. Twist looks too. Everyone is staring, even the ones in the kitchen. Oh, fuck.

Cash hesitates a moment. Twist freezes. What’s Cash going to do? Is he going to leave? He said it was fine, but now everyone's watching and he hates that so maybe he'll leave. If he leaves, will he ever come back? Maybe something else will go wrong and he’ll have to come back, but what if he’s told the others everything they need to know now so he won’t even come back if Twist’s dying because he can’t deal with everyone seeing him with Twist’s skull in his lap? Fuck, fuck, fuck, Twist should have done something different, should have stopped Papyrus somehow, should have told Cash to get up so Cash could have played it off like no big deal so he wouldn’t be about to leave. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave please don’t leave please please please please –

Cash lifts both hands, _he’s going to leave_, scowls, and flips off everyone in the room. Then he lays one arm protectively over Twist, beckons to Slim, “get over here,” and leans back against the couch. Sockets wide, Slim darts across the room to sit on the couch, laying Twist's legs across his lap. He and Twist exchange looks of utter perplexity, sharing their bewilderment at Cash’s sudden, very literal, public display of affection.

Then Slim shrugs, Twist smiles, and everyone else gets back to the business of setting up for movie night. Snacks are collected, a movie is chosen, various lazy skeletons are picked up or pushed into more convenient locations by their brothers and/or significant others, and everyone settles in for some good old relaxing entertainment. No one comments on the couch's seating arrangements. Twist couldn’t be happier. They're all just... This is why he’s doing this. It’s easy to forget when everything sucks, but the whole point is so he can stay right here. Most of his favorite people are right here in this room, with Twist right in the middle of them. It's amazing. It's worth all the pain, just to keep this. It's so much easier than struggling through things alone.

Maybe Blackberry will wake up pretty soon and come see how nice it is to have everyone here working together.


	37. Chapter 37

Twist’s mind drifts around while watching the movie. He’s actually not entirely sure what movie it is, despite having a pretty clear memory of being the one who picked it. Something with explosions, apparently, since that’s what’s happening on the screen. He sighs. That’s not how running away from explosions works. They never get that part right.

Cash’s hand tightens on his arm. He looks up. Cash frowns down at him in concern. Twist smiles and shakes his skull. It’s fine, just his own personal movie critique. What even is this movie?

Cash turns back to the movie, so Twist does too, trying to catch up on the plot. He’s probably seen it before, has definitely seen some of those actors before, but it’s just not coming to him. Oh well. It’s hardly the most important thing he’s forgotten. Maybe it'll come back to him later.

There sure is a lot of activity in those air ducts. They must make them a lot stronger and bigger on the surface than back home, and with a lot fewer obstacles. If he’d tried that in any of the ones he’s been in, he’d probably have fallen right through. Or gotten stuck. Those two sure look like they’re going to get themselves stuck. Not that they seem too worried about it. Also, aren’t they in the middle of trying to break into or out of somewhere, or something like that? It seems like there might be better times and places for a heated makeout session. “This movie’s weird,” he announces, drawing everyone’s attention.

“That’s what I’ve always said,” Edge says, “but the rest of you seem to be obsessed with it.”

Rus nudges Edge. “come on, edgelord, you’ve gotta admit it’s at least funny, if nothing else.”

“I’ll admit to no such thing. It’s utter nonsense, and not in an amusing way.”

“Good, so it’s not jus’ me, then.” Twist frowns. Did he really pick this one? Maybe it makes more sense when you pay attention the whole way through.

“No, it’s not. If anything, your taste in entertainment seems to have improved in the past hour or so.”

“Huh.” He tries to follow the next scene. “Are they tryin’ ta steal somethin’?” They’re not doing a very good job of it.

“Theoretically, but the writers seem to have forgotten that by this point.”

“And what happened ta the bomb?”

“They’ll remember it at the end.”

“Oh. For… suspense or somethin’?”

“No. That would require far too much planning and… general mental coherence on the writers’ parts. It just… suddenly exists again, as far as I’ve ever been able to tell.”

“Oh. So I’m not missin’ somethin’?”

“If you were, it wouldn’t make any difference whatsoever to the coherence of this movie.”

“oh, come on!” Rus exclaims. “twist, you love this movie. we watch it all the time. edge is just annoyed that it’s not some high class drama thing with deep themes or something.”

“I like plenty of movies that aren’t ‘high class drama things with deep themes’. I just prefer some basic semblance of plot and consistent characterization.”

“it has a plot.”

“Really? Describe it to me.”

“uh… well, there’s this bank heist –”

“Which is never mentioned again.”

“yeah, but that’s how… okay, actually i have no clue why the bank heist is in there.”

“Is that what they’re doin’ now?” Twist asks. “Breakin’ inta the bank?”

“nah, that was earlier. you seriously don’t remember? we watched this, like, a couple of weeks ago. didn’t we, guys?”

“uh huh.” Sans nods. “some of us did.”

“some of us didn’t ‘cause they thought they were too good for some classic comedy,” Red says.

“_Some_ of us had better things to do with our time,” Razz scoffs.

“what could be better than watching this classic of modern cinema?” Red demands.

“Nearly anything. I can’t believe I’m sitting here watching it. I don’t even know why I am.”

“because twist picked it, and we’re here to help twist,” Slim states quietly but firmly, before ducking his head back into his hood. Twist puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder and watches Razz, waiting to see how this is going to go.

Razz opens his mouth, a no doubt scathing retort on his tongue, looks at Slim, and closes it. He looks away. “I supposed you have a point.” Tension washes out of Slim’s body. Twist squeezes his arm once more, then lets go. “Very well, the maleficent Razz will continue to tolerate this farce of a movie for the sake of supporting an ally.” Wow. From Razz, that’s almost a declaration of eternal friendship. Also, thank the stars that didn’t go badly. If anything was going to bring back the nasty side of Razz, it would be his brother telling him off, however mildly. He’s been doing a whole lot better lately with not treating Slim like shit. Sometimes they even do things together, and Slim comes back happy every time. In the beginning, Twist worried, and so did a few of the others, but it seems like spending less time around his queen and more time around people who are happy to call him on his bullshit has been good for Razz.

Sans pats Razz’s skull. Razz swats at him, but relaxes back into the armchair the two of them are sharing. “yep, we’ve gotta support our friends. can’t say i know too much about the whole lv thing, but i can’t imagine twist’s too happy being stuck in bed all day. pretty sure my brother’d lose his mind.”

“I MOST CERTAINLY WOULD. AT LEAST NOW TWISTED-ME HAS SOME COMPANY IN HIS BED.”

“papyrus!” Sans groans.

“WHAT? I’M ONLY SAYING THAT WEALTHY-ME AND SMALL-ME SEEM TO BE DOING A WONDERFUL JOB OF TAKING CARE OF TWISTED-ME.”

“sure. sure that’s all you’re saying.” Sans buries his face in his hands. “why do i even bother anymore?”

“Why _do_ ya bother?” Twist asks, genuinely curious. If anything, it just encourages Papyrus to make more of those little comments, and anyway, Sans is about the only brother left still trying to cling to the idea of his brother being as pure as a freshly fallen snowpoff.

“i don’t… just… forget it. i’m just saying it’s probably not good for you to be stuck in bed all the time.”

“Yeah, yer right about that, darlin'. Can’t say I mind havin’ somethin’ ta do, even if it is just watching a movie I can’t remember why I liked.”

“Is that something we should be concerned about?” Blue asks.

“What, me forgettin’ the movie?” Blue nods. “Nah. I mean, maybe?” Twist shrugs the shoulder that isn’t pressed up against Cash’s leg. “Hell if I know, sweetheart. I know who ya all are, and I know this is my living room and we’re watchin’ a movie that don’t make much sense, so I guess that’s good enough? ‘Bout as much as I c’n ask for, anyway, all things considered.”

“Well, alright…” Blue doesn’t look any less worried. Well that won’t do. No need for anyone to worry about Twist.

“Hey, c’mon, sweetheart. It’s nothin’ ta worry about. Even if I’m wrong and it does mean somethin’ bad, I always get better eventually.” Not that he wants to go through any of the things that usually happen before that ‘eventually’, but it always turns out alright. Eventually.

“I just wish you weren’t… sick, I guess?” Ooh, that one Twist can help with!

“But that’s just it, sweetheart! I’m not sick. Or, I guess you could think of the LV as what’s makin’ me sick, and this is what’s gonna make me better. Jus' takes a while.” A really long while. Is it supposed to take so long? Maybe it’s about time to check in with Iggy. Not that going back to the lab sounds particularly fun, but it would be nice to find out if anything is actually happening.

“You certainly don’t seem well,” Edge says, browbones raised.

Twist half shrugs again. “Yeah, well, guess that’s just what happens when ya fuck around with yer soul. Mine sure ain’t too happy ‘bout it.” He nuzzles into Cash’s lap before thinking better of it. Amazingly, Cash doesn’t object, just rests a hand on his skull. “‘s worth it, anyway.”

“you sure about that?” Rus asks skeptically.

“Yep.” Twist eyes Edge. “Bet yer boy there thinks so, too. What’d’ya think, Edgelord? Wanna give it a try? It's lotsa fun!” Twist waggles his browbones.

Edge rolls his eyelights. “Maybe if you manage to make it through without melting your soul into goo. And with your mind as intact as it ever was, although that part might be hard to tell. Then we’ll see.”

“Aww, gonna let me be the guinea pig all by my lonesome?”

“You did that to yourself. Besides, you don’t seem very lonesome at the moment.”

“Heh, guess yer right about that, darlin’. Got my pillow,” he grins up at Cash, who flicks him off without taking his eyes off the movie, “an’ my footrest,” Slim pats his knee and smiles, “an’ a whole lotta people puttin’ up with this movie I can’t remember why I picked. Guess I ain’t lonesome at all. Even if some ‘a you ‘er too chicken ta be part ‘a this little experiment with me.”

“There’s being a ‘chicken’, and then there’s basic common sense.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, sweetheart. Didn’t get this far in life by worryin’ too much ‘bout bein’ sensible.”

Edge shakes his skull, but that smile is definitely fond. Hah! Edgelord does like him. “How you’ve gotten this far in life is beyond any explanation I can conceive. But yes, assuming this treatment actually works, I would be interested in it. I think most monsters would be glad to have at least a little less LV.”

Twist nods. “Tha’s what I thought. Ain’t too many people who’d wanna keep that damn number so high now that we’re on the surface, even if most of 'em ain’t as fucked as me.” Quite a few people look uncomfortable at that statement. Damn, since when did Twist start letting stupid shit like that fall out of his mouth? He’s been getting way too free with what he says. “Anyway, uh… Razz! How ‘bout you, darlin'? Any interest in takin’ yer LV down a few notches?”

Razz scowls. “The maleficent Razz most certainly-!” He glances at Slim, then looks away. “-might… possibly benefit from such a thing.” Spine stiff, he glowers at the tv. Sans loops an arm around his shoulders and pulls him back against the chair. Razz lets him.

Slim says nothing, but he smiles. Twist smiles, too. Yeah, he’s doing the right thing, acting as a guinea pig. Not just for himself, but for them too. He looks at Edge, who’s currently rolling his eyelights at Rus’s latest argument in defense of the movie. They’re happy. They’re going to stay happy, and Twist is going to stay happy too. Even if he never does figure out what this movie's about. Based on what he’s seen so far, he’s kind of got to side with Edge. Why did he pick it?

Frowning at the screen, he tries to catch up on what’s happened since the last time he paid attention. Not much, from the looks of it. They’re still making out. Really making out. Still in the air duct. Why are they still making out in an air duct? What the hell is this movie? “It this a porno?” Not really a typical movie night choice, but it’s sure starting to look like one.

“No,” Edge scoffs. “That might actually justify its existence.”

“You sure? ‘Cause it really looks like they’re about ta fuck.”

“Language!” Blue scolds.

“What?” Twist asks. “Yer sittin’ here watchin’ the same movie as me.” Also, he's been swearing all night.

“Well it isn’t one I would have picked, but it certainly isn’t porn. Honestly.” Blue shakes his skull.

Twist shrugs. “Can’t blame a guy fer askin’.”

“DON’T WORRY, TWISTED ME. THEY’LL REMEMBER THEY’RE IN AN ACTION MOVIE IN JUST A MINUTE OR SO.”

“Why do you even know that?” Blue asks. “Have you actually watched the whole thing? Recently?” He shudders.

“YES.” Papyrus shrugs. “CHERRY WANTED TO WATCH IT.”

“see?” Rus asks, nudging Edge. “some people can loosen up enough to let their bonefriends choose the entertainment every once in a while.” He and Red fist bump for the pun. Edge ignores it.

“I go along with plenty of your questionable choices of entertainment. This just happens to be one that I refuse to partake in. For good reason.” Edge rubs the space between his sockets as the people on the screen finish their makeout session and crawl into a bigger air duct where there’s… an active shootout? Some kind of firefight thing? Has that been going on the whole time they were making out? Seems like there would have been some sign of that at some point.

“c’mon,” Rus cajoles, “you’ve gotta admit it’s at least so stupid it’s funny.”

“Ah hah! So you admit it’s stupid.”

“only if you’ll admit it’s funny.”

“I’ll admit no such thing. The only kind of person who might think it was funny is the kind of person who thinks it’s the height of humor to replace ‘boyfriend’ with ‘bonefriend’ every single time it comes up in conversation. Even if it was a halfway decent pun, which it is _not_, any humor it might have held is long since dead. You killed it.”

Whatever Rus shoots back in response to that is probably a decent comeback, but Twist mostly misses it, drifting away again. The blissful feeling of claws absently scratching his coronal suture is too distracting. It’s making his skull all tingly and warm. He presses into the sensation, closing his sockets, floating on the waves of background chatter that ebb and flow along with the light little prickles swirling across his scull, leaving no room for anything that might disrupt such utter bliss. Everything is perfect.

Then the happy chattering comes to a stop, one voice after another trailing off into silence until nothing is left but the drone of the TV and the feeling that something strange is going on. Reluctantly, he opens his sockets to look around.

A room full of eyelights look back at him.

“Hmm?” He asks, hoping that’s enough to get the question across. Too warm and sleepy.

“it’s nothing,” the voice above his skull says. Cash. It’s Cash. Cash is scratching Twist’s skull. In front of other people. How is any of this even happening? “ignore them. and you all fuck off.” The scratching continues, the rumbling in Twist’s ribcage getting louder. Rumbling? Oh. He huffs a laugh. He’s purring. He’s purring while Cash gives him head scratches. That’s why they’re all staring.

One by one, every curious gaze turns back to the movie. Cash never stops scratching his skull. After a minute or so, Slim shifts around under Twist’s legs. Twist frowns. Is he leaving? Please don’t leave. This is perfect. Won’t be perfect if Slim leaves. Don't leave.

Slim shifts closer. He leans his shoulder against Cash’s. Cash puts the arm that isn’t scratching Twist’s skull around Slim’s shoulders. He glares around the room, daring anyone to say anything, but no one is even looking at them anymore. It’s all so normal. So peaceful. Twist is almost a little squashed between the two of them, but with a little shifting around, and a little help from both of them, they all find a comfortable position. And Cash never stops scratching his skull.

It’s perfect. Everything is... it’s… Twist shivers. It’s too perfect. This is wrong. They can’t… he can’t do this. Can’t let this happen. They need to stop. Twist needs to make them stop. This kind of thing, it’s a bad idea. What they’re doing right now, it’s not just… this isn’t just an arrangement between fuckbuddies for everyone to have a good time. This is… they’re fucking holding him like a babybones. Cash is petting him, and not in a sexual way. Nothing about this is sexual. Nothing they’ve been doing, not now and not earlier in bed, has had anything to do with sex. It’s all… what are they doing? They’re just… taking care of Twist? For nothing? Just because they – no. No no no. It’s gone too far. It’s got to stop. This can’t happen. They can’t do this, because –

“twist?” Cash whispers, and the concern in his voice, the… the caring, the fucking <strike>lo</strike>–

“'m fine.”

“you sure?”

“Yeah. Yep.” Twist clears his throat, then pastes on a grin. “Y’know me, sweetheart. Always fine.”

“right.” Cash doesn’t believe him. Of course Cash doesn’t believe him, because he does know Twist, is getting to know him too damn well, but not well enough because if he did he’d know they can’t do this. They can’t. It’s a terrible idea, only going to end in disaster all around, because…

Twist’s sockets widen. Because why, exactly? The LV? That’ll be gone, eventually. Yeah, it’s taking its sweet time, but up until a week ago it was Twist who was going to be gone eventually, so what’s a few weeks or months or fucking _years_ if it means the LV will be gone and Twist will still be here? And apparently so will these two. They’re both watching him with worried looks on their faces, and Cash still has his hand on Twist’s skull, and Slim has a hand on his knee, and everyone else is pointedly _not_ looking at them, like they’re giving them privacy to deal with things on their own, like they’d do for any of the other couples in the group. They’re treating the three of them like… not a couple, a threesome, maybe? No, that’s a whole different thing, sounds like it’s all about sex, and the whole point is that this _isn’t_ all about sex, it’s about… what? What is it even about?

It’s too much. Everything is too much. It shouldn’t be, they’re just watching a movie, and Cash is being nice, and Slim is snuggled up close, and everything should be fine except now everyone is looking at him again because of course they are because Twist is shaking. Why’s he shaking? Everything’s fine.

“twist?” Cash asks, alarmed.

“I – I dunno. ‘m fine. Should be… nothin’s wrong. I should… this is… I gotta…” He needs to leave. He tries to sit up, gets up onto his elbows, but they give out underneath him so he collapses, which sets his ribs to screaming at him. Then he tries to roll off the couch, anything to get away, but Cash catches him before he can, which is great because landing face down on the floor isn’t going to help anyone.

“twist. twisted! what the fuck? what’s wrong?” He hears Cash, know he’s freaking out, but he’s got to get out of here, get away, go some place where he can calm down and think for a second because this is all moving too fast and he’s got to get up.

“What going on?” Edge snaps, which is what Twist would like to know. What the fuck is happening to him?

“i don’t know! everyone just back off for a second. twist. listen. can you listen to me?”

Listen. Cash wants him to listen. Listening to Cash is good. Very helpful for figuring out what the fuck is going on. Listen to Cash. Twist nods.

“good. good job. okay. now, do you know who i am?”

Twist nods again. “Patches.”

“right. patches. cash. and who’s that?” Cash points to Slim.

“Tha’s Slim.”

“good. you remember us. okay, now who’s–”

“Ya don’ gotta… I know who ev’rone is. Tha’s not…” He takes a couple of deep, steadying breaths, only now realizing how frantic his breathing has become. “Didn’ ferget.”

Cash shuts his socket in relief. “okay. okay, that’s good. you remember us. okay.” Cash takes a moment to reposition Twist so that he’s no longer in danger of falling off the couch. “then what was that all about?”

“Uh… I dunno. I - I dunno. Tried ta get up, an’ it didn’t work, an’ then I dunno what happened. Sorry, sweetheart.” Seriously, what the fuck?

“okay.” At least Cash isn’t making a big deal of it. That makes it easier.

Apparently, that’s everyone else’s cue that they don’t need to back off anymore. Papyrus approaches with great concern on his face. “WHY DID YOU TRY TO GET UP? IT DOESN’T SEEM LIKE YOU SHOULD, RIGHT AT THIS PARTICULAR MOMENT. DO YOU NEED SOMETHING?”

“Nah, just–“

“Are you sure?” Blue asks. “I could get you a drink, or maybe one of those smoothies?”

Twist shakes his skull. “Nope. Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m fine. Uh, actually, I probly could use somethin’ ta eat an' drink, but I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You seemed very upset, even before you couldn’t get up.” Judging by the looks on most of their faces, a lot of his friends share Blue’s concern. They shouldn’t worry so much.

Twist tries a smile. “What, ya never seen a fella freak out over relaxin’ on the couch watchin’ movies with friends before?” He gives a self-deprecating laugh. The whole thing really is ridiculous, and now everyone’s worried. “I don’ even know what happened, sweetheart. Hones’ly, ‘s just been a long week. So how about that water?”

“Oh, of course! And I’ll get you a smoothie. Or, I’ll try. Edge did most of the work last time.”

“I’ll be happy to assist you,” Edge says, standing up. “I doubt the one I made last time was an optimal recipe. Let’s see what we can do now that we aren’t under a time crunch.”

“want us to pause the movie until you get back?” Rus offers, grin only a little bit strained.

“Absolutely not,” Edge states, Blue shaking his skull in agreement.

“fine,” Rus mutters good-naturedly. “you don’t know what you’re missing.”

“I know perfectly well what I’m missing. Perhaps there are some other tasks that need to be done around here so I can miss more of it.”

“Don’ go movin’ Blackberry’s stuff around too much,” Twist warns, finally feeling a little steadier. His little brother is already going to be thrown off enough if he wakes up to find so many people in his house. At least he didn’t wake up to find Twist struggling to get away from Cash and Slim. Twist shudders. That would have been awful all around. Absolutely terrible.

“you okay?” Slim asks.

“Yeah,” Twist says, and means it. He is okay. Everything’s going to be fine. It just might be best to hold off on the life-changing realizations for a while. No need to look too far into what’s going on or what any of it means. Just don’t think too hard. Just relax, wait for dinner to be served, and press his skull into Cash’s hand like a cat in hopes of getting more head scratches.

The head scratches are hesitant at first, but they get better after a minute or two of Twist not freaking out. By the time Blue proudly presents him with a freshly made smoothie, he’s purring up a storm, with everything back to normal. Everything is fine. So maybe he’s got enough issues to keep a therapist in business for decades. Who doesn’t? And maybe at some point he’s going to have to deal with a few of those issues, or maybe he’s already being made to deal with some of them, without much of a chance to get away from them, but whatever. He’s back in his comfy spot on the couch, Blue and Edge did a damn good job on the smoothie, and Cash is scratching his skull. Everything else can wait until later.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you... a chapter!  
(a surprisingly stubborn one. on the other hand, what is time, these days? the world has become a very strange place.)

Cash stares vaguely in the direction of the TV, not really watching it. He’s more focused on the skeleton in his lap. This is so weird. Twist is just lying there with his skull in Cash’s lap, purring like a kitten. Cash is scratching his skull, also like a kitten. It’s so weird. Just… fucking weird. But Twist is happy.

He’s not even sure when the skull scratching thing started. They were just sitting there, watching the stupid movie, only in that position in the first place because of _fucking Papyrus_, and what was he supposed to do, just toss Twist on the floor? No, of course not (well, on some days, definitely, but not right now), and then there was Twist, trying not to look so hopeful and… and scared! Fucking scared. Of what? Cash is so sick of seeing Twist so scared and… hesitant, or something. Like he doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to be doing. Twist is supposed to be loud, and obnoxious, and… and not fucking bothered by _anything_. So if scratching his skull and making sure he’s comfortably bundled up between Cash and Slim is enough to make him purr, then fine. Cash can do that. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.

Not that anyone else seems to care. They’re too busy arguing over the stupidest <strike>stupidly funny</strike> movie he’s ever seen. Idiots. But whatever. It’s fine as long as Twist keeps purring.

“popcorn?” Slim asks, _not_ startling Cash, because he was definitely paying attention to his surroundings, not getting lost in the sound of Twist’s purr. The purr dissolves into a barely muffled chuckle, because Twist is an ass. Cash should have dumped him on the floor when he had the chance. Twist nuzzles into his hand, so he resumes the skull scratches, taking a handful of popcorn from Slim’s bowl with his other hand.

“Mmm, smells good, darlin',” Twist murmurs, still purring.

Cash shrugs. “not bad. it’s popcorn.” Not that great of popcorn, either. Maybe a tiny bit burnt. Better than it could be, considering who made it, but not great.

Twist sighs. “Haven’t had popcorn fer a while,” Cash wants to smack himself, but his hands are busy. Yeah, just wave food in front of the guy who’s stuck drinking smoothies all the time and tell him it’s not that great. Great plan.

“maybe someone could mix some into a smoothie?” Slim suggests, which doesn’t sound great either, but maybe? Cash doesn’t cook, so what does he know? Then again, neither does Slim.

“I can’t imagine that would do much for the texture,” Edge interjects, looking thoughtful. “There might be a way to incorporate the taste, though.”

Twist shakes his skull. “No, thanks, sweetheart. Wouldn’t be the same.” He’s stopped purring. Damn it. Why’d they have to make popcorn? “Just be nice ta have somethin’ with a little crunch. Wouldn’t hafta be popcorn. Maybe a nice carrot. I miss vegetables.”

Of course he misses vegetables. Weirdo. Cash guiltily shoves his handful of popcorn in his mouth. Probably shouldn’t hold it right in front of Twist’s face.

“You’re not supposed to have anything solid, right?” Blue asks, sympathetically.

“Yeah,” Twist sighs. “Dunno why, though.” He shifts around, bringing a… piece of popcorn? Where’d he get that? Did the bastard take it right out of Cash’s hand? _When?_ Fucking Twist. He brings the piece of popcorn up to his sockets, contemplating it.

“ARE YOU STILL HUNGRY, TWISTED-ME?” Papyrus asks. “IT WOULD BE NO TROUBLE AT ALL TO MAKE ANOTHER SMOOTHIE. MAYBE EVEN A POPCORN FLAVORED ONE, LIKE EDGY-ME SAID.”

“Nah.” Twist shakes his skull. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m not hungry. ‘s just…” He frowns at the popcorn, examining it from every angle. Then he shrugs, and before anyone has the chance to point out what a fucking stupid idea it is, pops it into his mouth.

Cash freezes. The room goes silent, every set of eyelights locked on Twist. Twist notices, and waves them off, like it’s completely ridiculous to think a single unapproved piece of popcorn could lead to disaster. Like a hundred other harmless-seeming things haven’t already led to disaster. But sure, let’s just go shoving random food in our mouths because it’s crunchy. Fucking impulsive idiot.

Twist chews the popcorn. He chews it really thoroughly. It seems fine. Probably. How’s Cash supposed to know? Not like he goes around watching people eat. He has a general idea of how it works, of course; you chew up the food until your magic dissolves it well enough to swallow it, then you swallow it, then it finishes incorporating into your magic, or something like that. It always seemed pretty straightforward, not really worth giving it a lot of thought. Until now.

Twist seems to have the chewing part down. Yep, that’s definitely some chewing. Looks fine to Cash. Maybe Iggy was just talking out of her ass. That sounds like something she’d do, decide Twist had to drink those nasty smoothies because she didn’t feel like feeding him, then convince everyone it was medically necessary or some bullshit like that. Bitch probably made the whole thing up.

Except… Twist is still chewing. And frowning. Seems like a long time to chew one piece of popcorn. It’s not like he’s having trouble chewing, either, doing it really slowly because he’s tired or something like that. He’s chewing just fine, but he’s not swallowing it.

From the unique angle offered by Twist’s skull lying in his lap, Cash can kind of see inside his mouth. There are just a bunch of little pieces of crumbled up popcorn. Not dissolving or soggy or anything, just there. And Twist is still chewing them. “twist?”

Twist looks irritated. Frustrated. His mouth works the pieces around, maybe trying to get them in a position to swallow? But nothing happens. Twist growls. A piece falls out of the bottom of his jaw. Not between his teeth, actually _through_ the empty space surrounded by his mandible, like there isn’t any magic there at all. What the fuck?

“maybe you should spit it out,” Slim suggests, looking worried.

Twist shakes his skull, scowling. He keeps chewing, but slower now, like he’s getting tired, which is understandable. He hardly had any energy to begin with, and now he apparently has to work to even keep the food in his mouth. Magic should take care of that all on its own. Skeletons don’t go around dripping food out of the bottom of their mouths while they eat. This obviously isn’t working. Something's wrong. It needs to stop.

“Spit it out,” Edge echoes Slim’s suggestion with a command, walking over with a napkin in his hand and alarm in his voice. Twist shakes his skull again, glaring, and chews harder. It doesn’t help. He’s chewing dry little popcorn crumbs. They aren’t dissolving. Whatever magic is there isn’t working. “Don’t be stupid. This isn’t the time to be stubborn. We already knew you shouldn’t eat that; this is just confirming the reason.”

“come on, twisted,” Red adds, actually worried enough to bother sitting up straight. “no one’s gonna think less of you for yer magic not working right.”

“twist. spit it out,” Cash growls. The idiot is going to choke himself. Or keep chewing until all the popcorn falls out of his mouth. It could really go either way at this point.

Twist pauses his determined chewing for a moment, considering the napkin that Edge tries to hand him. Then his scowl deepens, lightens, and washes away with a shrug as he turns away from the napkin and _swallows the fucking popcorn._ And chokes on it.

***

Twist swallows the popcorn. Maybe it’s not the best idea he's ever had. Maybe he should have spit it out, given up on what was obviously a bad idea from the start, but since when has he been afraid of bad ideas? It’s just popcorn. He’s done stupider things. Much stupider.

Tell that to his throat. He’s a skeleton, he doesn’t even have a throat, but that doesn’t stop the magic gathered between his mandible and his cervical vertebrae from screaming about the sharp little particles he just shoved in there that it can’t fucking dissolve. More magic collects around the popcorn like it refused to do in his mouth. Too much magic, and it isn’t even working. Way too much magic. More magic than is supposed to be there. Enough magic to mess up the magic that is supposed to be there, like the magic involved in breathing. Fuck, he can’t _breathe_!

He coughs. It burns. He coughs again. Can’t breathe. Get it out! It’s not supposed to be there, not solid like that, with so much magic there from trying to swallow. It hurts. Too much stuff in too little space, magic won’t work right, never works right, can’t breathe.

Someone turns him over, holds him up. He coughs, can’t get enough air to cough, retches, but nothing comes out. Skeletons don’t work like that. There’s nothing there to clear the throat. Nothing that should need to be cleared, just a little bit of magic, there when it's needed, gone when it isn't. Nothing there, so why can’t he breathe?!

People are talking, rushing around. They sound frantic, scared. Twist is scared. He can’t breathe. There’s glass in his throat. He doesn’t even have a throat! Can’t breathe.

“Take a drink!” There’s a straw in his mouth. He tries to drink. Gags. Can’t drink. Can’t breathe. Can’t get rid of the sharp stuff. Has to get rid of it. It’s not… it should dissolve or something. Shouldn’t be there. It’s messing everything up. Can’t breathe.

He claws at his throat. It doesn’t help. There’s nothing to claw at! He doesn’t have a throat! But he's choking. Someone grabs his hand. They’re always grabbing his hands. <strike>Won’t let go can’t get away</strike> He tries to growl, but has no air. Can’t breathe. They won’t let him fix it! Can’t breathe can’t get away can’t breathe!

His body shudders, wracked with coughs that don’t do any good because there’s no air. His fists clench. One curls against his ribs… they don’t have that one! That one can move. He claws at his throat again. Have to get it out. Fuck, it’s not working! Why isn’t it working?!

Hands reach for that hand too. No! Can’t have it. He turns away so they miss. Someone swears. “hold still!” Fuck that. Can’t breathe. He lurches forward.

The shock of impact with the floor nearly drowns out the shouts coming from every direction. Pain blazes through over-sensitive joints, and his _ribs_, but hands are reaching towards him, trying to hold him, trying to control him, so he rolls away towards the couch, the only source of protection. It’s no obstacle to them, they’ll have him in no time, but he curls away from them, earns himself a few extra seconds from the shield of the couch, just long enough to realize that if clawing at his throat can’t reach the pieces that are suffocating him then maybe they can come out the way they went in. Hands grab him again, pull him away from the couch, but not before he gets a hand in his mouth, reaching for those little pieces that are choking him as the voices shout their surprise.

The hands are holding him now, more than just hands, trapping him, _get away_, but breathing is more important and they’ve stopped pulling his hands away. He scrapes at the magic in his throat, heedless of any damage, just trying to get everything out. It’ll be gone in a minute anyway if he can just get rid of the stupid little pieces of popcorn that are keeping it there. He catches one, catches another, scrapes a whole collection of them up with his claw and pulls it out, trying not to gag. Someone wipes his finger off, tries to keep his hand, so he snarls at them and they let go. He gets more popcorn out this time, lets it be cleaned off his finger as darkness closes in from lack of oxygen, starts to reach for the last few specks when finally, with a few tiny little pulses of fresh mana, the magic gathered in his throat _finally_ figures out how to do its job. The last particles dissolve. The magic fades. He can breathe. Oh stars, he can breathe.

He buries his face in the space under the couch and just breathes. He can breathe. Sometime later, somebody tugs at his shoulder. “twist?”

Twist shrugs his shoulder away from them. “‘m fine.” Go away. Tired.

“That seems unlikely,” someone else says.

“Guess it does.” But really, he’s as fine as he ever is, these days. Mostly he’s just tired. And maybe a little embarrassed. But no, he doesn’t do embarrassed, does way too many stupid things to waste time being embarrassed when they go wrong, so mainly he’s just tired. His skull hurts. Dizzy.

Someone tugs on his shoulder again. This time he lets them. <strike>Like he could stop them</strike>. They roll him onto his back. Dizzy. He looks up at them. All of them. Lots of them. Everyone is gathered around looking down at him. Maybe everyone. Maybe just most of them. Hard to tell with them all blurring together like that. His head hurts. Ribs hurt, too. Everything always hurts. He’s tired.

“can you breathe, at least?” That one crouches down beside him. Hey, it’s Cash. Cash is frowning. Doesn’t seem happy. Cash leans closer, probably trying to see what’s wrong with Twist, _<strike>everything</strike>_, checking him out. Heh.

“C’n check me out any day, darlin’.”

Cash pauses, frowns, then rolls his eyelight. “great, you can talk.” Could try injecting a little more enthusiasm into that one. Whatever; Twist can roll with it.

“Wasn’t I already talkin’?”

“kind of.”

“Huh.” Cash is still scowling. Always scowling. Also… “Hey! I c’n see ya!”

Cash’s socket narrows, more than it already was. “you couldn’t before?”

Twist shakes his skull. It scrapes against the floor, the vibrations echoing through the empty space between the bone. Nothing but empty space in there. What was the question, again? Oh yeah, seeing Cash. “Nah. Yer just a blur, sweetheart. Pretty blur, though.” Maybe he shouldn’t call Cash pretty? He shrugs. “Less blurry now, though.”

Cash’s scowl deepens. How deep can it go? Still pretty, though. Should start saying that to his face. Or… stop, because he already started? What were they talking about, again?

“When did it start?” That’s somebody else. Not Cash. Too far away. Also, huh?

“When did what start?” Is nobody making any sense today, or is it just Twist? Probably just Twist. Maybe choking is bad for skeletons. Who knew?

“The vision problems.”

“Oh. Shoulda said that. Gotta tell me these things, darlin'. Ain’t smart enough ta figure it out myself.”

Someone takes his hand in theirs, gently, not like they’re trying to control him. It’s nice. He searches the room to figure out who it is, eyelight finally landing on Slim, who’s right next to him. Maybe he should have looked there first. Slim looks worried. Twist smiles for him, but Slim just looks worried and sad. Slim shouldn’t be sad. It’s not his fault Twist is stupid.

The one who’s too far away to see continues, “I doubt it has anything to do with your intelligence. I’m more concerned with you hitting your skull on the floor and being unable to breathe for more than a minute. That seems like it might cause some problems.”

“Oh.” Is that voice worried, too? People need to stop worrying about Twist. He’s always fine. Eventually. “Don’ worry, sweetheart. I do this shit all the time. I think. Lately, I mean. Or somethin’ like it. If that makes sense.” It doesn’t make much sense to Twist, but that’s become pretty normal. He should just accept it. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m just bein’ stupid.”

“you’re not stupid,” Slim insists, squeezing his hand a little tighter. It’s nice, but doesn’t make what he says true.

“Kinda am. Jus’ choked on popcorn.”

“i don’t think ‘have you choked on popcorn’ is one of the questions on any IQ tests,” another of the skeleton blurs hovering around him says.

“Heh. Guess not, sweetheart.” He considers it for a moment. “Most people’d probly have the sense ta spit it out when they realized their magic wasn’t workin’ right. Not that I didn’t already know my magic wasn’t workin’ right before I even tried it, so maybe the stupid part was tryna eat popcorn in the first place.”

“Admittedly not one of your brightest ideas,” the first unidentified voice says. He should really try to work out who they are. Look for clues, or something. Right, because thinking works out so well for him. _<strike>Just a cock and a strong arm.</strike>_ Not like he’s done much to prove her wrong.

“Like I said, stupid.” At least he’s keeping track of the conversation better, now. That shouldn’t involve too much thinking, just remembering the last thing someone said. That’s usually not beyond him.

“Poorly considered, perhaps, but understandable.” Edge. Twist is almost sure that one is Edge. The others haven’t talked enough to recognize. Assuming it’s been the same one talking, which could go either way, because Twist was kind of out of it for a minute there. More than usual, even. Wait, what are they talking about?

“Fuck.”

That gets a raised browbone from Edge, who has thankfully decided to sit down on the floor where Twist can actually see him, proving that he’s definitely Edge. “Any particular reason for the random ‘fuck,’ or just general commentary on the situation as a whole?”

“Uhh… both? Probly both. I dunno. I just… sorry. ‘m bein’ –”

“If you apologize for being stupid one more time…” Edge growls, but can’t seem to think of an appropriate threat. What’s with everyone lately trying to act like Twist’s some kind of genius? Normally they’re happy to make their opinions clear about his less-than-brilliant ideas, and that’s when he doesn’t manage to choke himself on a piece of popcorn. Cash and Slim keep arguing with him about it, and now Edge, like they all think they need to defend him or something. It’s kind of annoying. Can’t a guy acknowledge his own bad choices?

“What ‘xactly are ya tryin’ ta say, sweetheart? Ya sayin’ eatin’ that popcorn was smart?”

“maybe not smart, but not ridiculous,” somebody else… Rus! He’s tall, and he’s leaning on Edge’s shoulder, so he’s got to be Rus. Probably. There aren’t too many more Papyruses out of sight anyway, and he doesn’t sound like Papyrus at all. Wait, but… No. Don’t get distracted by the name thing. Everything’s way too distracting. (Probably-)Rus is still talking. “-not like we knew why you shouldn’t eat solid food, right?” Twist shakes his skull. (Dizzy. Stop that.) He can agree to that much, at least. “if it was so important, shouldn’t iggy have explained it better?”

Twist scowls. “She don’t much like explainin’ why I should do what she tells me ta do. She’ll ramble on ‘bout EXP stabilization or some shit all day, and never mind whether I got a clue what she’s talkin’ ‘bout, but ask her why somethin’s gotta be some particular way an’ you’d think I was threatenin’ ta drop outta the whole experiment. Like I even could if I wanted ta! Just s’posed shut up an’ do as I’m told an’ trust that everythin’s ‘for my own good’.” Huh. Maybe he’s holding on to a little bit of resentment about that. Just a little bit.

“Is that why you ate the popcorn?” Edge asks slowly, a knowing look in his sockets.

“What’d’ya mean?” There was no good reason for eating the popcorn, especially not for swallowing it when chewing it wasn’t working. He was just being a contrary asshole in the stupidest way possible, and fucking himself over in the process. So pretty typical behavior, really. Nothing to explain, but Edge seems to want to explain it.

“I just mean… It must be quite frustrating, even terri – well, rather infuriating, to have someone with so much power over your life insist that she knows what’s best for you, when she clearly doesn’t and doesn’t actually give a fuck about anyone but herself.” Edge bites out the end of that sentence. He looks like he might continue, but lets it go when Rus kneels down beside him and brushes his arm.

Twist listens with wide sockets. That sounds kind of… Nope. None of his business. Also makes things sound worse than they are. “That ain’t… look, it ain’t that bad, sweetheart. It’s really not.” He looks around the room. Everyone close enough to see looks varying degrees of worried, maybe kind of mad? Fuck. This is getting blown way out of proportion. “Hones’ly. We had a few disagreements, an’ I didn’t like some of her methods, but we got the same goal and I don’ need ta be babied. I’m pretty durable.” He grins, but no one seems reassured. “Okay, fine. Think what ya want of Iggy, but eatin’ popcorn just ‘cause no one told me exactly why I shouldn’t, and maybe ‘cause I’m fed up with bein’ so helpless all the time, was a stupid thing ta do, an’ chokin’ on it was my own damn fault. Unless yer gonna say I’m too fucked in the head ta take responsibility fer my own damn actions?” He glares, not at anyone in particular but more at the room in general. None of them would probably say that. Probably. Probably the only person who would even think it is fast asleep, where he needs to _stay_ to make up for his own stupid choices. Maybe Twist isn’t feeling entirely charitable right now. He’s tired.

“NO ONE’S SAYING THAT,” Papyrus soothes. Twist can’t see him, but that’s unmistakably Papyrus. “IT JUST SEEMS LIKE YOU MIGHT BE BEING JUST A LITTLE BIT TOO HARSH WITH YOURSELF.” He crouches down next to Twist. At this rate everyone is going to be on the floor. Maybe they can tell that Twist can’t see them? “A MOMENTARY LAPSE OF JUDGEMENT IS HARDLY CAUSE FOR AN INDICTMENT OF YOUR ENTIRE CHARACTER.”

“Guess not.” Twist looks around. The room only swims a little bit with the movement. It’s fine. “Whelp, I think that’s about enough of hangin’ out on the floor. How ‘bout we all get back ta our spots and see about making sense of this movie?"

“Impossible,” Edge mutters, but nods at the suggestion of getting off the floor. Twist isn’t quite sure he’s ever seen anyone with a bigger grudge against a movie. That might be worth investigating sometime, for the entertainment factor if nothing else, but – wait. No. Focus. Getting off the floor. That’s what they’re doing. Right.

He tries to get up on his elbows. His shoulders go up, but his skull stays down, which isn’t all that comfortable. Mana rushes towards his skull. The room spins. It’s upside down. Wish it would stop. Ribs strain from holding him up. Everything hurts. So tired. Won’t stop spinning. Some kind of drug? No, that’s not… But it won’t stop. Skull hurts. Ribs hurt. Arms hurt. So tired. Why won’t it stop? Arms around him _fuck off you fucking bitch_ lowering him to the floor and letting go. The spinning slows. His eyelight focuses. Oh. It’s Edge. Just Edge. Where’s…? Not here. Just them. Edge and Cash and Slim and Papyrus and Rus. Lots of people. But just them. It’s fine. He’s fine. “’m okay.” Everyone looks skeptical. And worried.

“maybe you should let someone help you with the whole ‘getting up’ thing,” Slim suggests, very quietly.

“Right,” Twist gasps. Is he out of breath? Guess so. “Sorry. Sorry, darlin’. Fergot… I dunno.”

“it’s okay. just let us help.” Slim is way too patient with Twist. Everyone is, lately. It’s weird.

“Let’s just get you off the floor,” Edge says. “How would you like to do it?”

“Standin’ up would be nice,” Twist quips. “Guess that’s too much ta hope for, though. Seems like the only thing I c’n do under my own power is fall off furniture.”

“AND AN EXCELLENT JOB YOU DO OF IT, TWISTED-ME!” Papyrus chirps, earning a snort from Twist.

“Yeah, got that part down pretty well, don’t I, darlin’? It’s gettin’ back up that’s the problem.” He looks up at the couch, its cushions sitting an insurmountable distance above his skull. Lifting his skull for a better view brings back the vertigo, so he quickly lowers it again before the vertigo can bring back other things.

“Be that as it may,” Edge says, “We still need to get you back on the couch. Unless you'd rather return to bed?”

Twist shakes his skull, wincing as the vertigo threatens again. Apparently every move is going to be a problem, now. Probably has something to do with choking. Or maybe it's just a random new symptom. Focus. Answer Edge. “Nah. ‘m kinda tired, but I don’ wanna go ta bed.” Which kind of makes him sound about three years old, but whatever. A three year old could probably make more sense than he can right now.

“Then back to the couch it is. Any preference about who picks you up?”

Twist shrugs. They’re all friends, and he’s getting kind of used to being carried around. Nodding, Edge scoots closer and carefully works one arm under Twist’s scapulae. Twist braces for the pain of his ribs moving. It’s fine. He can deal with it. Everyone else is putting in all the effort. Twist can at least cooperate. His skull tips back. The world spins. He whimpers. He’s back on the floor. The spinning slows.

“Guess…” he gasps, “guess that didn’t work.” This vertigo thing can feel free to fuck right off any time now.

“Was it your ribs?” Edge asks, frowning.

“Nah. Was… my skull? I think. Spinnin’.”

“Hmm. Oxygen deprivation, perhaps?”

“Maybe? Dunno.”

“that sounds bad,” Cash says, startling Twist, which just sets everything to spinning again. He kind of forgot Cash was there, which sounds bad all by itself. He tries to reach for Cash, but can’t find him without turning his skull, which is not going to happen. Cash solves the problem by catching his hand. Heh. Lots of hand holding. What was…? Oh yeah. The room spinning. Which is a new problem, and might mean he’s managed to do some new damage. Or maybe it’s just one of those random things that he’ll sleep off and be just fine. But what if it keeps going? He’s not going to be able to handle holding perfectly still all the time. He just can’t. Maybe he can learn to live with the room spinning all the time? A person can learn to live with a lot of things, he knows. He'd really rather not learn to live with this one, though.

“Maybe… should… Iggy?” She’s the last person he wants to see, or explain eating popcorn to, but she could at least tell them if everything is working right.

Cash scowls, but doesn’t reject the idea outright. “do you want to talk to her now?”

“Don’ wanna. Maybe soon? Jus’ ta check?”

“you’re talking worse than you were a minute ago.”

“Spinnin’. Can’t remember not ta move.”

“So is moving you onto the couch a bad idea?” Edge asks.

“Probly. I dunno.” But it was so nice on the couch, snuggled between Cash and Slim. “Try one more time?”

“Are you sure?”

No. “Uh… yep! C’mon, Edgelord, we ain’t got all day.”

Rolling his eyelights, Edge reaches for Twist again. “Tell me if you need me to let go.”

“Right,” Twist says, and remembers to stop himself from nodding. See? He can hold still. For a minute.

He holds it together while Edge gets his arms underneath him, holding in the moan that tries to escape. Then Edge lifts him off the ground. The floor drops out from under him.

“_Shit_,” he gasps as his vision goes dark. Ringing fills his skull. Magic rises in his throat, burning, bringing back that feeling of suffocation as the room spins. He flails for something to hold on to, something solid and still, digs his claws in and pulls it towards him. It’s so hard to move, arms and legs so heavy. How can he be so heavy when there’s no gravity to tell him which way is down? Nothing is steady, nothing is real, except maybe whatever he’s clinging to, so he clings tighter. It steadies him, just a little, almost enough to think.

What did he take? Or more likely, what did someone give him? He wouldn’t take something like this on purpose, nothing that comes with this kind of trip. He doesn’t even know what would come with this kind of a trip. Nothing fun. Maybe just poison. Sans might know. Where’s Sans? Sans is gone. Everything is gone. There’s nothing – Fuck! Falling!

Not falling. On the ground. Still spinning, but his back is flat on the ground, and his claws are anchored in… what, exactly? It’s making noise. “-let go.” Words. It’s saying words.

“Wha’?

“You need to let go so I can lay you down. Unless you want me to fall on you.”

“Huh?” Oh. That’s Edge. He’s holding on to Edge. Clinging to Edge’s shirt, actually. Huh.

“Are you steady enough to let go, now?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Sure, sweetheart. I c’n… I c’n let go.” He untangles his fingers from the shirt. They’re shaking. He’s shaking. Always shaking. Should really work on getting that under control.

Edge straightens up and brushes off his clothes. Hey, Twist can see! That’s nice. He can see that he tore holes in Edge’s shirt. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” It's not alright. He tore Edge's shirt. Edge was just trying to help.

“Getcha new shirt.”

“I’m not concerned about the shirt.”

“Oh.” Everyone sure is nice, lately. Very forgiving. Also, the room has mostly stopped spinning. That's nice, too.

“Perhaps we should rethink the necessity of moving you to the couch.”

“Yeah. Floor’s nice.” He pats the floor. It’s a good floor. Nice and clean. Blackberry wouldn’t have dirty floors. “Sturdy, too. Stays in one place.”

Edge shares a glance with someone. Twist can't see who. “Well that settles it, then. Unless anyone has a reason he shouldn’t stay on the floor for a while?”

“needs a pillow,” Cash grumbles, which isn’t actually an objection, especially when he plops one down next to Twist.

“I’m good with stayin’ down here,” Twist confirms. In fact, he thinks he might object pretty strongly to anyone trying to pick him up again any time soon. They can try again after he figures out how to turn his head without the room spinning. He grins as a thought crosses his mind. “Sorry, Edgelord. Gonna hafta wait a while ta sweep me up in yer arms.” Edge rolls his eyelights. He's no fun.

Cash puts a possessive hand on Twist’s arm, his glare barely visible out of the corner of Twist’s socket. Well that’s interesting. Didn’t know whatever their thing is was exclusive. Cash’s glare softens when Slim pulls the blanket down from the couch. Well, almost exclusive. “can you handle me putting a pillow under your skull?” Cash asks.

Twist considers it. A pillow would be nice, even if getting it sucks. Cash’s lap would be nicer. He goes for it. “Rather have you, darlin’.” It worked before, after all.

He dares to turn just enough to see Cash’s reaction. He’s blushing! Honestly, they were just doing that a minute ago. Must be taking Cash a while to catch up with it all.

“he’d be happy to be your pillow,” Slim answers for Cash.

Cash scowls, but doesn’t object, instead gently cupping Twist’s skull in his hand. “i’m going to move you now.”

“Okay.” Twist grits his teeth and lets himself be moved.

In the end, they find that rolling Twist onto his side with a blanket wrapped around him and his skull in Cash’s lap works best. Curled loosely into a ball feels like the most stable position, especially once Slim resumes his place by Twist’s legs, which helps them stay in place. Once Twist is settled, everyone goes back to watching the movie. Cash’s claws soon find Twist’s skull again, and Twist is happy to resume his earlier purring.

It’s starting to feel like a good time for a nap. Twist is clearly not going to figure out what the movie's about, anyway. Maybe the floor isn’t ideal, but there are worse places to sleep, and he’s got some new favorite people to sleep with. He’s even moved his skull a few times without getting dizzy. A nice nap should make everything better. He shifts slightly, and Slim tucks his blanket more securely around his shoulders. Yeah, perfect place for sleeping. Perfect time to sleep.

Until a panicked voice gasps from the stairs, “Papy?!”


	39. Chapter 39

Blackberry blinks awake, disoriented. It’s mostly still dark out, just a little bit of light filtering in through the curtains, so still pretty early. Or – he glances at the clock, reading 7:18 pm – late, actually. What an odd time for a nap. How strange for him to even take a nap. Not that it seems to have helped. He rubs his sockets and sits up, then winces at the twinge in his skull. Maybe he went to bed early because of a headache? He doesn’t usually get those. Better go take something for it before Twist notices and gets worried.

Climbing out of bed, he shakes his skull, smiling fondly none-the-less. Twist worries about the silliest things when it comes to Blackberry. Honestly, like he doesn’t know when he does or doesn’t need to sleep. Twist is the one who – oh stars, Twist!

Memories of his brother’s screams echoing through his skull, Blackberry races down the hall to Twist’s room. The silence coming from the room isn’t reassuring, just bringing to mind the deathly silence that accompanied Twist’s vacant stare after too much pain for too long just shut him down. “Please be alright, please Papy please be alright, please–“

He isn’t there. No one is there. Just an empty room, sheets on an empty bed, a little blood on the sheets but no dust, there’s no dust on the bed, oh please no dust. He searches the room, looks everywhere, under the bed, in the corners, anywhere that might hide the horrifying proof that Blackberry failed his big brother, _left_ him when he needed him most. Why did he leave? He shouldn’t have left, can’t even remember going to bed, and he _wouldn’t_ have, couldn’t have left with his brother so badly hurt. But he clearly went to bed and now he can’t find Twist. “Papy?” He whimpers. But no one answers.

Where did he go? There’s no dust, but he isn’t here, so he has to be somewhere else, but how? Maybe he got better? Maybe that whole miserable screaming thing was the medicine finally working, and then Twist got better and put Blackberry to bed like he’s wanted to for days now? That would be just like him, bundling Blackberry off to bed and tucking him in the second he was strong enough to get out of bed himself. He’s always taking care of Blackberry. Usually they take care of each other, but Blackberry has been doing such a terrible job of it lately, hurting as much as helping, really, so maybe Twist got better, put Blackberry to bed, and went off to go spend time with someone else now that he isn’t trapped in bed anymore. It all sounds disturbingly plausible, except that they were finally actually talking about things and surely Twist wouldn’t just run off…

Okay, stop. All of this speculation is assuming that Twist walked out of here under his own power. That really isn’t a very likely option. Twist could have gotten better, but he sure didn’t _look_ like he was getting better. He looked like he was dying. But there isn’t any dust, and they were inside, so it wouldn’t have blown away, so Twist didn’t die. At least he didn’t die here. But then where is he, and how did he get there?

Glancing out the door at the top of the stairs, another horrible thought crosses his mind. What if Twist needed help when Blackberry wasn’t there? What if he went to get it himself? That’s absolutely something Twist would do, drag himself all the way across town if he needed to instead of waiting around for help that might never come. And help never did come, because Blackberry wasn’t even there, so what if Twist tried to leave? Which would mean trying to drag himself down the stairs!

Blackberry runs to the staircase, fully expecting to find dust or his brother’s crumpled body at the bottom. Oh please no, stars, please don’t let Twist have fallen down the stairs because Blackberry wasn’t there when he needed help. Please please please please please – There’s nothing at the bottom of the stairs.

Twist made it. Or he didn’t go that way at all, but then where is he? Did someone take him? Who? And how did they get in the house? Maybe… surely not Cash. It’s been a long time since he’s done anything to hurt Twist, and Twist insists he trusts him now, and he left when Blackberry asked him to, and he really was lots of help when Blackberry hurt Twist with the stupid healing thing. And he got Twist away from Iggy and took good care of him, even though that’s a really hard job. Surely he wouldn’t just… _take_ Twist? Surely not. But Twist is gone, and Blackberry wasn’t there to protect him, and also Cash already saw how badly Blackberry took care of Twist, so even if he didn’t mean any harm maybe he thought Twist was better off without Blackberry, and that’s a big ‘if’ about not meaning any harm–

There’s someone talking downstairs. There’s been someone talking downstairs for a while, but it’s only now filtering in through the panic. There’s someone downstairs. There’s someone… watching TV downstairs? What in the world…?

Blackberry pads quietly down the stairs, greatful for his socks. He does not run, because that would be loud, and he doesn’t know who’s in the house or why they’re there. Twist did not take himself downstairs to watch TV. Some unknown person is in the house, and Twist is missing from his bed, and completely helpless, maybe not even conscious. Or he’s conscious, but can’t move, because who knows what that was yesterday. Anyone could be doing anything to him! He should never have left him alone. Why did he leave him alone?! He can’t even remember doing that! Now Twist is… don’t think about it. Just look downstairs. Figure out what to do afterwards.

He peeks into the living room, careful not to be seen. People are sprawled across every piece of furniture they own. What…? But in front of the couch, not dust, very much not dust, is Twist. Twist is here! Oh, stars, Twist is here. He’s alive and home. He’s here! So are a lot of other people, which they will be having _words_ about soon enough, because who invited them? But the most important thing is Twist. He’s home, he’s not dust, and he’s… crumpled up on the floor? Why is he on the floor? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?!

“Papy?!”

All heads turn to Blackberry.

***

Twist jumps at the shout from the stairs, steadying himself on Cash’s knee before he can faceplant on the floor. The room only spins for a few seconds this time, settling back into place as hands on his shoulder and hip anchor him. Counting on them to keep the spinning under control, or at least to keep Twist from falling over, he cranes his neck to see the stairs. There, on the bottom step, in rumpled clothing that his little brother would normally never tolerate, is a very confused Blackberry.

Twist grins, and manages a wave in something like the right direction. “Heya, bro. Have a good nap?”

“Did I… what?” Blackberry shakes his skull. “I – nevermind that. Why are you down here? Why are you on the floor? Why are they –?” He looks around the room. “What are you all _doing_ here?”

“Taking care of your brother, it would seem.” Edge says sardonically.

“But… that’s…” Blackberry shakes his skull again. “Then why is he on the _floor_?” He stomps over to Twist. “Papy, what happened?” Kneeling down beside his brother, he glares at Cash, who does not remove his hand from Twist’s shoulder.

“Long story, bro.” Blackberry frowns at Twist’s attempt to brush over the problem. “Hey, don’ gimme that look. ‘s no big deal. Just a little incident with some popcorn.”

“Popcorn…?”

“Yeah, so like I said, ‘s nothin’. How’s yer skull?”

“My…?” Blackberry rubs his frontal bone. “My skull is fine. What does that…? Why are you on the floor?”

“Toldja, ‘s just –”

“Why is he on the floor?!” Blackberry demands, glaring at Cash, who scoffs.

“i don’t see how that’s any of your business, at this point.”

“Not my business?! You have my brother on the floor! In your _lap!”_ Twist winces at the shout, but Blackberry doesn’t seem to notice, fury entirely focused on Cash.

“again, what does that have to do with you?”

“It’s – pick him up! Put him to bed, or at least on the couch! What is he even doing down here?!”

“he’s here because he wants to be.”

“He wants to be on the floor?!”

Fuck, this is spiraling out of control. “Uh, bro, tha’s not – jus’ listen fer a sec, okay? Just a sec.”

“Listen to what?!” This time Blackberry does see Twist’s flinch. It deflates his anger like someone stabbed it with a pin. “Oh, Papy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“‘s okay, bro. Jus’ listen fer a minute, okay? You’ve been asleep all day. Lotsa stuff’s happened since then, alright? ‘s gonna take awhile ta explain. Jus’ listen.”

“All day?” Blackberry whimpers.

“Yeah, bro, you really needed the sleep.”

“I left you alone all day?”

Twist shakes his skull, keeping the dizziness from showing on his face. “Not all day. See, I got tons of people takin’ care of me.” He gestures around the room. Also, hey, he can see everyone again. That’s always a plus.

“as of this morning,” Cash growls. “before that, who knows how long he was alone?”

Twist digs his claws into Cash’s knee, hoping Cash gets the message to shut up. “Wasn’t alone then, either.”

“yeah,” Red grumbles, “‘cause yer bro was a lotta help, bleeding on the floor all night while _you_ took care of _him_.” He’s unfortunately out of reach of Twist’s claws.

Blackberry gasps. “What?”

“That wasn’ his fault,” Twist hisses. If Red doesn’t shut the fuck up, Twist is going to crawl over there and… fall on his face, probably. Bad plan.

“kinda was,” Red mutters. Right, Red was the one who found them this morning. It was probably pretty upsetting. He still needs to shut up.

“How… what happened?” Blackberry starts to tremble. “Papy, what happened?” Tears bead in his sockets. “All I know is you were having some kind of terrible node attack thing, and it wouldn’t stop, and nothing helped at all, and it kept going for _hours_, I don’t even know how long,” his breath hitches, “and then it stopped but you wouldn’t wake up, or I mean you were awake because your sockets were open but you wouldn’t talk or move or anything and I thought, I thought…” he shakes his skull and wipes away tears. “I don’t know what happened after that, but then I woke up and you were gone and–”

“Shhh. ‘s alright.” Twist shrugs off Cash’s arm. “C’mere, bro.”

“–and I didn’t know what happened so I thought – but I couldn’t find any dust, but you weren’t there, so what if someone took you because I wasn’t watching you? And someone _did_ take you, and they’re supposed to be our friends but they aren’t even taking care of you,” Cash growls, but Blackberry ignores him, “and you shouldn’t be on the floor, it’ll just make you feel worse. Oh, Papy, are you still hurt from earlier? Or yesterday, or, I don’t know, I’m so sorry I couldn’t help, and I fell asleep! I don’t know how I could fall asleep; I thought you were _dying_, or, or – you wouldn’t _wake up,_ except you were awake but it was like you weren’t even there and I didn’t know if something had gone wrong, and I should have called and asked but I didn’t even think of it and then I left you all alone after I tried so hard to stay awake for you but then I wasn’t even there when you needed me and you could have died and–”

“Bro. Little bro. Come. Here.” Twist reaches for his brother, managing to catch his sleeve with his claws. Blackberry stares uncomprehendingly at the hand on his arm, tears streaming down his face. “C’mere.” Twist tugs lightly on the sleeve he’s holding, but Blackberry won’t take the hint. Fine. If Blackberry won’t go to the hug, the hug is going to Blackberry.

Gathering every ounce of strength he’s recovered while resting on his impromptu floor bed, Twist flings himself across the gap between himself and his brother. He maybe digs his claws in a little too tight when he lands, as every bone, joint, and the basic concepts of up and down protest his action, but Blackberry doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he brings his own arms around Twist, tightly at first but then more gently as Twist can’t hold in a gasp.

“Sorry, Papy.”

“‘s alright,” Twist forces out.

“But I left you alone.”

“No ya didn’t.”

“Did too! I–

“You knocked yerself out on the nightstand. Are ya sayin’ ya did that on purpose?”

“No! But it… that’s a ridiculous injury! How did I even do that?”

“Wasn’t really in a position ta follow what was happenin’, myself, but–”

“Maybe it had something to do with staying awake for three days straight,” Edge suggests sardonically.

“I didn’t–!” Blackberry looks around the room. Nobody makes any move to disagree. “Was it really three days?” He asks in a very small voice.

“As best as we can determine,” Edge agrees. “Unless there were any times you slept that Twist doesn’t remember?”

“I took some naps,” Blackberry mutters.

“Fer a few minutes, bro.” Twist hates to make him feel any worse, but he also didn’t particularly enjoy watching his brother ground himself down to dust with exhaustion, either. “I know ya never slept more ‘n that. Don’t think ya ate much, either.”

“I was busy!”

Edge rolls his eyelights. “Busy with a task that was frankly ridiculous for one person to undertake alone for that amount of time, especially with plenty of easily available allies.”

“I–”

“did you really think any of us would hurt twist?” Slim asks softly.

“No!” Blackberry starts to stand, then clutches Twist more tightly instead. “I just – you don’t know what it was like!”

“I’D SAY WEALTHY-ME HAS SOME KNOWLEDGE OF TAKING CARE OF TWISTED-ME,” Papyrus says, frowning. “AND WE’VE ALL HAD SOME EXPERIENCE OF IT BY NOW.”

Blackberry glares at Papyrus. “Well you shouldn’t have!”

“shouldn’t have what?” Red growls. “picked you and yer brother up off the floor before he dusted? ‘cause he almost did, about an hour or so after i found ya. then you could be waking up next to a pile of dust right now.”

“I – Papy…” A few teardrops land on Twist’s skull. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Alright,” Twist growls, glaring at all of the offending parties. “That’s about enough of that. Yer all gonna stop actin’ like my bro knocked ‘imself out on purpose, and little bro, yer gonna stop actin’ like they kidnapped me. Do I look kidnapped?”

Blackberry looks him over. “Um… kind of?”

Twist sighs. Maybe that was a bad question. “Okay, fine, maybe I look like shit. Point is, one, I did it all ta myself, an’ don’ go blamin’ them fer that either ‘cause I did just as bad with you, and two, there ain’t too many kidnappers that keep ya in yer own livin’ room, watchin’ movies. So cut it out.”

“But… but why do so many people need to be here? Why did whoever found you, Red, I guess, and don’t think I’m not grateful for that because I am, but Red, whatever made you think you needed to tell _everyone?”_

“why wouldn’t i tell everyone? not like i knew what was goin’ on, and twist was too fucked up ta make any sense. figured it was better ta call in the cavalry than try ta figure it out on my own.”

“But – but that’s – how would you like it if your brother was like this, and all of your friends came over to stare at him like–”

“i’d like it better ‘n him bein’ dead.”

“Surely it doesn’t take all of you to keep him alive, although apparently all of you together can’t manage to keep him off the floor.”

“Picking him up made him too dizzy,” Edge snaps. “He asked that we wait until he felt better, so Slim and Cash have done their best to keep him comfortable in the meantime.”

“He certainly looked ‘comfortable’ when I walked in here,” Blackberry mutters.

Oh, shit. “Bro, no. It ain’t like that. They were just–”

“Just what?

“why would that possibly be any of your concern?” Cash growls.

“You know exactly why. I’ve warned you.”

“warned me not to fuck your brother, right.”

Blackberry flinches. “The fact that that’s even where your mind went–”

“that’s where _your_ mind went! and i have no idea why, or why you would care–”

“Because I care about my brother!

“great! apparently a lot of people do! but what the fuck does that have to do with caring who he fucks? not that we are, but i don’t know why you’re so obsessed with the idea.”

“I’m not obsessed!” Blackberry takes a deep breath, then looks around the room. He frowns at the disapproval and confusion he sees. “Look, there are things you all don’t know about. My brother is–”

“Your brother is right there,” Edge states pointedly.

Blackberry looks down at Twist. “Sorry, Papy.”

Twist honestly isn't sure what to say. Blackberry doesn’t talk like this, especially not in front of other people. “’s okay, bro.” He shakes his skull. “Actually, no. Ya gotta stop doin’ this. I know I’m fucked up right now, and yer just tryna help, but ya gotta stop yellin’ at everyone and accusin’ them of things.”

“But Papy–”

“No buts. The reason they’re all here is ‘cause I wanted a movie night with some friends, ‘cause I was bored ta death bein’ in my room all the time. The reason fer this seating arrangement is ‘cause I asked for it, in my right mind and everything. And no, Cash and me ain’t fuckin’. Didn’t know ya wanted ta talk about why you care so much about that in front of everyone.”

“I don’t! I just want you to be safe!”

“I am safe. Bro, listen ta yerself. Yer worried about me watchin’ a movie with a bunch of friends in our livin’ room. How much safer could I get?”

“You could not have this stupid treatment that keeps trying to kill you.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice, but it’s too late fer that. ‘sides, I need it.” Blackberry opens his mouth. Twist closes it with a finger. “Don’ argue. I need it. You know it.”

Blackberry deflates. “Is it at least actually doing anything now?”

Twist shrugs. “No idea. We were actually thinkin’ it might be time fer a visit ta Iggy’s lab.”

“I don’t want you going back there.”

“No one does, bro, but that’s part of the deal.”

“It’s a terrible deal.” Blackberry glares at Cash, as if he should have managed a better deal. “Besides, wasn’t the deal once a week?”

Cash glowers. “that was before he spent the night alone on the floor, had his magic system destabilized because someone decided to heal his scratches, tried to scratch through his ribs, fell out of bed several times, apparently had a node attack that lasted several hours, which you didn’t see fit to inform any of us about–”

“I told Iggy!” Blackberry protests.

“and she didn’t want to come check on him?”

“I don’t know. It hadn’t been going on so long then, so maybe she didn’t realize how bad it got.”

“why didn’t you call her again when it clearly wasn’t stopping?”

“I don’t know! I–”

“It’s generally hard to think clearly when one hasn’t slept for three days,” Edge points out.

“I know!” Blackberry cries. “I know I messed up, I know Papy could have died, I know! I just keep doing stupid thing after stupid thing, and I know it’s because I was tired, but I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Ask for help!” Edge snaps, standing up to loom over Blackberry, arms crossed. “I realize it’s an unfamiliar concept, it is for all of us, but you have a room full of allies sitting right in front of you, who have only been a phone call away this whole time, and still you insist on doing everything yourself. Why?!”

“woah, babe, chill,” Rus says, tugging Edge back a few feet, which is good because Twist was about to need to do something stupid to get him to back off. That was a lot closer to an actual threat than Twist is going to put up with.

Edge lets himself be pulled away, but still waits expectantly for an answer. “Well?”

“I – I don’t – I…” Blackberry tightens his hold on Twist again. “I can’t just let you… Any of you… If you’d seen what he was like when–”

“i saw plenty,” Cash snaps.

“Well you shouldn’t have! It’s none of your business! Papy doesn’t want–”

“Bro.” Twist puts a hand on Blackberry’s shoulder. “It‘s okay.”

“It’s not okay. They have no right–”

“This ain’t about nobody’s rights,” Twist murmurs. “C’mon, little bro. I know ya just wanna protect me, but I don’ need protectin’. Not from our friends.”

“But–”

“No buts. They’re friends. You know that.”

“I do know, but–”

“No. Buts. They’re just friends. I trust them. Don’t you?” Which might be putting him on the spot in front of everyone, but Blackberry does trust them. There’s no way he doesn’t. He just needs to remember that.

“I do trust them.” He turns to the room at large. “I do trust you. I promise I do.”

“It doesn’t really seem like it,” Blue says, sounding sad.

Blackberry lowers his skull, looking away. “I know. And I know that’s terrible. I’ve been acting terribly. You’re all here trying to help, and I just keep yelling at you and acting like you’re trying to hurt my brother. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“I THINK IT’S ACTUALLY SLIGHTLY MORE CONCERNING THAT YOU DIDN’T TELL ANYONE YOU NEEDED HELP,” Papyrus says. “THE YELLING PART IS EASILY FORGIVEN. YOU WERE WORRIED ABOUT YOUR BROTHER.” That receives several affirming nods. One advantage of talking to their counterparts is that no one needs to explain the importance of brothers.

“I just… how can I… have you seen him have any hallucinations? Or just seen him get really confused and – and scared?” He brushes a hand over Twist’s skull, maybe as reassurance, maybe as an apology for bringing it up. Twist doesn’t mind, as long as it helps end this fight. Besides, they’ve definitely seen it. That will probably bother him more when he has more energy to care.

“Many of us have,” Edge confirms.

“Then how can you not–? Surely you understand why I don’t want anyone here. My brother is hurt very badly, and he can’t keep anything to himself, and some things are just none of your business.”

“Your brother invited us here.”

“I know! He can’t possibly want everyone to see him like this, but he never thinks these things through.”

Hey, now. There’s talking about a guy like he isn’t here, and then there’s flat out insulting the guy you're hugging. “Hey bro?”

“What?”

“Mind givin’ me at least a little bit of credit fer bein’ smart enough ta decide whether I want visitors or not?”

“Papy! You know I’m not calling you stupid.” Sure sounded like it. “These are just unusual circumstances.”

“Yeah, and they’re _my_ unusual circumstances, so I get ta decide how ta handle ‘em. I wanted ta have some friends over, so I did.”

“You know this isn’t just about having some friends over. Surely you don’t want them all watching, well, everything.”

“Nope, but I’m over it.”

“How can you be–”

“Dunno, but I am. What I’m not over is you nearly killin’ yerself takin’ care of me ‘cause ya think ya need ta protect me from our friends.”

“But–”

“No buts. They’re stayin’. Well, not all of ‘em. Probly most of ‘em gotta get home at some point. They’re takin’ shifts.”

“But–”

“Nuh uh. We got some help, so we’re keepin’ it.”

“They can’t just take over our house!”

“Nobody’s takin’ over anything. They’re just helpin’.”

“I’m not going to let them just–”

“_I’m_ not gonna spend another night with you bleedin’ out on the floor and me not able ta do much more ‘n hold a blanket against yer skull.”

“Oh.” Blackberry softens, but still seems upset. “But what about–”

“Don’t matter.”

“It should.”

“Nope. Don’t matter. I don’ give a single shit ‘bout privacy or anythin’ else, long as it stops that from happenin’ again.”

“Oh.” Blackberry’s face scrunches up like he’s about to cry. “I’m really sorry. I know that was my fault. I should never have let that happen.”

“Hey, none of that. It ain’t worth beatin’ yerself up over. We just gotta stop it from happenin’ again. Which is why somebody’s stayin’ here tonight.”

“But–!” Twist raises a browbone. He’s done arguing about this. “Alright. Alright, I guess a guest or two would be alright. But–”

“Nope.” Seriously, not arguing. Twist is tired, and his point is obvious.

“PERHAPS BLUE AND I SHOULD BE THE ONES TO STAY,” Papyrus offers.

“Oh, yes, that’s a brilliant idea!” Blue agrees.

Twist appreciates it. They’re probably the ones Blackberry will see as least threatening out of the whole group. If there’s anyone he’ll accept without much fuss, it’ll be them.

“I don’t know,” Blackberry hedges. “Are you sure you want to–”

“OF COURSE WE WANT TO! IT’LL BE JUST LIKE A SLEEPOVER.”

“I don’t know that anyone is really feeling up to a sleepover tonight.”

“I’d love a sleepover!” Blue chirps with some very bright stars in his eyes. “Wouldn’t you, Papyrus?”

“CERTAINLY! I’M THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED IT. OH, THIS IS A MARVELOUS IDEA! I’M NOT SURE TWISTED-ME HAS EVER DONE THIS KIND OF SLEEPOVER BEFORE! PLENTY OF THE OTHER KIND, OF COURSE,” Sans sighs as Red snorts, “BUT THAT’S ENTIRELY DIFFERENT.”

“It had better be,” Blackberry mutters, but offers no more protest against the sleepover itself.

“OF COURSE, OF COURSE,” Papyrus reassures.

“So how about it, Twist?” Blue chirps. He’s being very chirpy. Suspiciously so. “Want to do sleepover things with us?”

“Not sure I quite know what those are, sweetheart, but sure. We gonna paint each other’s nails, or sumthin’?”

“NOT USUALLY, BUT WE COULD IF YOU’D LIKE.”

“I’m sure we could find some polish somewhere. What color would you like?”

“Uh…” Twist blinks at them. He didn’t mean he actually wanted his nails done. “Don’ actually have nails, do I?”

Blue dismisses that with a wave of his hand. “Well, claws, distal phalanges, it doesn’t really matter. But what color would you like them to be?”

“Uh…” Twist rubs the back of his neck. “I dunno?”

“OOH, HOW ABOUT GOLD, TO MATCH YOUR MAGIC? THAT ALWAYS LOOKS QUITE NICE, ESPECIALLY WITH A PRETTY COLOR LIKE YOURS!”

“Pretty…?” Twist shakes his skull. “Dunno what yer… but anyway, wouldn’t work right now.” He holds up a hand to examine the faint glow between the joints. “Some kinda yellow? Got any pale yellow polish? Maybe kinda dirty lookin’?”

“Hmm. They probably sell some somewhere, but maybe…” Blue watches Twist frown at his hand. “Maybe we should try something else.”

“Yeah,” Twist mumbles, distantly, then shakes his skull and lets his hand drop. “Yeah, can’t say I’ve ever been too inta nail paintin’. What else c’n we do?”

“OH, WE’LL FIGURE IT OUT. NOW, LET’S GET THIS MESS CLEANED UP, AND THEN ALL OF YOU HEAD HOME TO BED. I’M SURE YOU HAVE THINGS YOU NEED TO DO IN THE MORNING.”

“I can take care of the mess,” Blackberry insists.

“NONSENSE!” Papyrus lifts Blackberry up and sets him on the couch, ignoring his indignant huff. “YOU JUST WOKE UP, AND YOU MIGHT STILL BE RECOVERING FROM A HEAD INJURY. YOU DO SEEM JUST A LITTLE BIT DISORIENTED. BESIDES, WE MADE THE MESS, SO WE CAN CLEAN IT UP.” With that, he bustles off to the kitchen.

Within a few minutes, snacks are put away, the TV is turned off, and Twist has been carefully moved back to the couch. Blackberry refuses to stay out of the cleanup. Edge assigns Rus and Red several tasks each in the kitchen, and Sans and Razz slip out before they could be drafted into cleanup duty, which leaves Twist, Slim, and Cash alone in the living room. It might have been intentional on someone's part. They clearly have some matchmakers in the house.

Cash shifts uncomfortably in front of the couch, glancing from the kitchen crew to Twist. “i could stay.”

Shaking his skull, Twist smirks. “Ya really wanna join in the sleepover fun, Patches? Betcha purple nail polish ain’t too hard ta find.” It would sure be a sight to see. Almost enough to be worth getting Twist’s own nails painted.

“you’re not going to get your nails painted.”

“Nah, probly not. Still don’t sound like yer idea of a good time, darlin'.”

“will you be alright?”

“As alright as I ever am.”

Cash frowns.

“Hey, none a’ that. It’s gonna be just fine. Maybe I’ll get ta find out what they actually do durin’ all those sleepovers.”

“i wish we didn’t have to leave,” Slim says. Twist pats his hand.

“I’d like you ta stay too, but ya both know the rules. Everyone’s gotta take breaks. Gotta have someone around who’s awake enough ta deal with problems.” And Blackberry would throw a fit. Best to ease him into the idea of them being around more, especially Cash.

“we weren’t exactly awake earlier.”

“No, but you weren’t so tired ya couldn’t wake up and think when ya needed to, either.”

Slim smiles. “except for cash freaking out about the doorbell.” Cash blushes.

Twist grins. “Yeah, ‘cept fer that.” He pats Cash’s arm. “I appreciate the effort, darlin’, I really do, but that was probly already a sign ya needed a break. So how ‘bout ya both go home, take that break, and then tomorrow you c’n come join in the fun again?” Cash scowls, so Twist just has to add, “maybe you could take that break t'gether.” He grins at Slim. “How ‘bout it, sweetheart? Want some company while ya recover from dealin’ with me all day?”

Slim smiles and nods.

Cash blushes again. “we’ll see.” That’s probably about the best Twist is going to get. The rest is up to Slim.

“The kitchen is clean!” Blue calls as the whole group files through the doorway.

With one last, worried look at Twist, Cash disappears. Slim follows, hopefully to the same destination. Red heads out with a last suspicious look at Blackberry. There might be some problems there, too. Rus and Edge are the last to leave. Edge turns in the doorway, seeming about to say something, but Rus tugs him out the door and pulls it shut. Then it’s just Twist, Blackberry, Papyrus, and Blue left in the house.

“Alrighty, then,” Twist says, rubbing his hands together. “Sleepover time!”


	40. Chapter 40

“So, what do you guys do durin’ these sleepover things?” Twist asks the local experts on the subject.

“WELL, WE BAKE A LOT,” Papyrus says. “SOMETIMES WE WATCH MOVIES. BASICALLY, WHATEVER SOUNDS FUN AT THE TIME.”

Twist shrugs. “Sounds good ta me.”

“Really?” Blue asks, “because neither of those sound like they’d be a lot of fun for you right now.”

“Hey, I like movies.”

“Sure, but can you actually follow one?”

Twist shrugs. He didn’t too well with the last one, but him having fun isn’t really the point of this particular sleepover, is it?

“IN TWISTED-ME’S DEFENSE, THIS EVENING’S MOVIE WAS A PARTICULARLY CONVOLUTED AND NONSENSICAL ONE.”

Blue nods, but remains unconvinced. “Even so, I’m not sure that – Twist, how’s your attention span right now?”

“Hm. Dunno, sweetheart. I’m doin’ pretty well with conversations, but a movie might be diff’rent. Don’ think I got a lot outta the last one.”

“Do you even want to watch a movie?” Blackberry asks, pleasant with a hint of warning. Twist probably isn’t the one being warned. It's going to be a long night if Blackberry's going to be this suspicious of everything they do. Twist shrugs.

“Not really, hones’ly, but it’s fine.”

Blue huffs. “Just ‘fine’ isn’t good enough. It’s a sleepover. We’re meant to have fun! We’ll think of something else.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” At least Blackberry seems appeased. “What else is there? Somebody mentioned baking?”

“I DID, BUT… OH, THAT’S PROBABLY A TERRIBLE IDEA. WE’RE NOT GOING TO SPEND THE NIGHT COOKING FOOD YOU CAN’T EAT.”

That’s… actually kind of sweet. These guys are good friends. “Uh, thanks, I guess. But then what’re we gonna do?”

They’re also earning some points with Blackberry, who isn’t showing any detectable signs of planning to solve his unwanted guests problem with poison. “What would you like to do, brother?”

“Uh…” Just the idea of doing anything at all sounds pretty nice. Twist has been in bed for a long time.

“EVEN IF IT SOUNDS SILLY, WE WON’T JUDGE. JUST TELL US, AND WE’LL MAKE IT HAPPEN!” Papyrus exclaims.

Right. Well, if they really want to know, “How ‘bout we get outta here, huh, sweetheart? Think you c’n make that happen?”

“Out where?”

Huh. No one has completely vetoed the idea, even if Blackberry does look a little worried. Well, why not go for it? “Strip club’d be nice.”

“BROTHER!”

“–that might not be the best idea right n–”

“-DON’T KNOW HOW WE WOULD EVEN GET YOU THERE–”

“Okay, okay!” Twist waves them all off, laughing. “How ‘bout the front yard?”

“Well…” Blackberry hedges.

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE A MARVELOUS IDEA, TWISTED-ME! NOTHING LIKE SOME FRESH AIR WHEN YOU’RE NOT FEELING WELL.”

“I don’t know…” Blackberry says.

“It’s a great idea!” Blue insists. “Don’t you still have Papy’s, my Papy, I mean, not yours, don’t you still have my brother’s lawn chair from our last barbeque? The reclining one? Twist should be comfortable enough in that.”

“Twist should be resting, not sitting outside in the cold.”

“LAZY-ME CERTAINLY NEVER HAS A PROBLEM ‘RESTING’ IN THAT CHAIR.”

“That’s different," Blackberry snaps. "He’ll sleep anywhere. Besides, what about it being cold outside? It’s after dark.”

“It shouldn’t be that cold, this time of year. I’ll go check, just in case,” Blue offers, darting out the front door. He pops his head back in. “It’s barely cold at all!”

“Maybe for you, but my brother will need some blankets.”

“But you agree it’s a good idea, bro?”

Blackberry looks at Twist, who tries for some puppydog eyes. That’s not really one of his skills, but apparently it’s good enough, because Blackberry softens. “Yes, I agree. As long as there are blankets. Lots of blankets.”

“WONDERFUL!” Papyrus crouches down next to Twist. “I’LL CARRY TWISTED-ME OUTSIDE, BLUE CAN SET UP THE LAWN CHAIR, AND BLACKBERRY CAN GET THE BLANKETS.”

“Hey, uh, guys?” Twist asks.

“YES? WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKE ANY CHANGES TO OUR PLAN?”

“Just one. I think we’re outta blankets.”

Papyrus smacks his browbone. “OH, OF COURSE! I COMPLETELY FORGOT. OH, DEAR, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?”

“Maybe a jacket?” Blue suggests.

“We don’t really want Twist getting stuck in a jacket, do we?” Blackberry warns.

“NO REASON FOR HIM TO GET STUCK! WE’LL JUST USE ONE JACKET, AND THE BLANKET WE HAVE, WHICH WE CAN EASILY TAKE OFF IF IT BECOMES A PROBLEM.”

Twist shakes his skull. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta say no ta that one.”

“OH? WHY?”

Mainly, he doesn’t really like the idea of fighting with his friends to keep his clothes on while half convinced those same clothes are spider silk, but hopefully they’ll accept an easier explanation. “I think yer underestimatin’ how hard it c’n be ta move me around durin’ those attack things. Really don’ wanna be stuck in a jacket when I already feel like my soul’s meltin’.”

“AH, AN EXCELLENT POINT,” Papyrus concedes.

“What happened to all of our blankets, anyway?” Blackberry asks.

Twist sheepishly glances away. “Think I mighta torn a lotta them ta shreds.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, property damage seems ta be kinda my thing, lately.” Which is better than people damage, but still not great for the household budget.

Blackberry hugs him. “It’s okay. We can buy new blankets.” He glances suspiciously at the other two. “No one has been making you feel bad about tearing things up, have they?”

Twist shakes his skull. “Nah, bro, really, they’ve been great. You got nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”

“Mhm.”

Definitely going to be a long night. “Alrighty. So, think we got any blankets I didn’t rip ta shreds?”

“We can go search, if you’d like,” Blue offers.

Blackberry sighs. “Alright. I’m pretty sure any you find will be dirty, though.”

“That’s sleepover activity number one, then!” Blue exclaims. “Laundry!”

Twist laughs. “That how you usually spend these things, sweetheart?”

“Well, no,” Blue concedes, “but it’s not unheard of.”

“EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE, THERE’S A SLIGHT KITCHEN MISHAP, PERHAPS FROM SOMEONE PUTTING PERHAPS JUST A _TINY_ BIT TOO MUCH ENTHUSIASM INTO A NEW RECIPE. OCCASIONALLY,” Papyrus says with an expression of complete innocence.

“Right,” Twist chuckles. “Gotta watch out fer those kitchen mishaps.”

“Well if _some_ of us would stop taking cooking advice from Undyne…” Blackberry says with a glint in his sockets. Ah hah, some friendly teasing. This is looking more promising.

“UNDYNE IS A MARVELOUS CHEF!” Papyrus defends his friend.

“Well… she does seem to be improving… Slightly.” Blue hedges.

“BLUE! I THOUGHT YOU AGREED THAT WE SHOULD SUPPORT OUR FRIENDS’ EFFORTS, NO MATTER WHAT? UNDYNE IS MY FRIEND.”

“I do support her efforts!”

“Me too!” Blackberry nods vigorously. “I just wish she was a little bit clearer about when slightly _less_ effort was called for.”

“WELL, AS LONG AS NO ONE IS ACCUSING MY FIRST AND BEST FRIEND OF BEING A POOR COOK,” Papyrus huffs.

“Not at all!” Blue exclaims.

“Of course not!” Blackberry protests. Then all three look to Twist.

“Uh… she seems fine ta me?” Was that the wrong answer? Now all they’re all frowning at him.

“I’m not sure if that counts as an endorsement or not,” Blue says.

“ACTUALLY, IF TWISTED-ME THINKS HER COOKING IS FINE, MAYBE I’M SLIGHTLY UNDERESTIMATING THE SEVERITY OF THE PROBLEM?”

“Well… I mean, I guess you don’t actually have to know how to cook to recognize whether something was done well? Although Papy doesn’t always have the best taste in food, either…”

“Hey, now, why’d ya go askin’ me if ya didn’t want my opinion?” His taste in food is just fine, thank you very much. “Just ‘cause I’ll eat some things that ain’t at least fifty percent sugar…”

“I’ve seen you eat a head of broccoli straight out of the fridge.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Blackberry helplessly shakes his head, the other two patting his shoulders in commiseration.

“Well, anyway,” Blue says, “let’s see what blankets we can find, so we can get the laundry started.”

They manage to find enough reasonably intact blankets, sheets, and pillows to bundle Twist up to Blackberry’s satisfaction. Then they toss the dirtiest ones in the washing machine and pile the rest by the door. Now they have some time to occupy.

***

“Alright, that’s the last load,” Blackberry declares, brushing imaginary dust from his hands as he returns from the laundry room. “It should only be an hour or so, depending on how fast they dry.”

“Wonderful!” Blue sets his cards down with perhaps a little too much relief. Blackberry very politely does not laugh at him, or at Papyrus, who is scowling at his cards with a determination that isn’t going to help him. He did warn them.

“Hey, he said an hour, darlin’. No need ta end our game early. Yer doin’ great!” Twist looks so very innocent, if one ignores his pile of winnings precariously balanced on the couch. Both Blue and Papyrus have lost a significant portion of the contents of their wallets. Well, they’re the ones who decided to go along with Twist’s choice of game.

It’s some varient of poker, if poker was played with Uno cards. Twist jokingly suggested it as soon as the idea of playing games came up, and those two were so eager to accommodate him that they went along with it. They actually tried going easy on him at first, especially once Twist admitted that the reason he wanted to use the Uno cards was because he couldn’t tell normal cards apart, but Twist quickly proved that unnecessary. Blackberry has spent the past thirty minutes trying very hard not to laugh at them. Playing cards against Twist should be left to the professionals.

Of course, Twist wouldn’t usually make it quite so obvious that he’s cheating. No one has directly caught him doing it, but winning every single hand they’ve played isn’t exactly subtle. Twist is normally good at this kind of subtle, despite all appearances. It’s kind of concerning.

Blackberry watches Twist glance several times between his cards and the ones on the table. He takes a card from his hand, almost discards it, frowns at it, and puts it back. It would almost seem normal, like he just changed his mind, except for the way his fingers move as he mutters something under his breath. Counting. He’s counting the number on his card. He’s using his fingers to count to seven. <strike>Please oh please don’t let this be permanent. Brain-damaged Twist is a horror Blackberry can’t even comprehend. This is supposed to help him!</strike>

Two turns later, Mr. Counting on His Fingers smugly collects his next round of winnings. Blackberry shakes the worries from his skull. Twist must not be doing too badly, even if spacing out his victories is a little too much to remember right now. And counting.

“ARE YOU CERTAIN WE NEED TO WAIT FOR THAT LAST SET OF BLANKETS?” Papyrus asks, startling Blackberry out of his thoughts.

“Of course we do. I’m not letting Twist get cold.” He’s not entirely sold on the whole ‘go outside’ idea as it is, let alone doing it without enough blankets. They’re not freezing Twist just because these two were silly enough to get caught in a card game with him.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want me ta catch a chill,” Twist says with a grin. “’sides, this way we c’n get a few more games in!” Focus problems or not, he’s having way too much fun with this. It’s almost worth having their home invaded. Almost.

“How about a different game?” Blue suggests, rather desperately in Blackberry’s opinion. “Blackberry, what would you like to play?”

“Oh, no,” Blackberry smiles. “I couldn’t possibly interrupt your fun! You three go on, and I’ll just keep tidying up.”

“No, really, it’s quite all right!” Blue insists.

“I THINK WE’VE HAD NEARLY ALL OF THIS PARTICULAR TYPE OF FUN THAT WE CAN HANDLE,” Papyrus adds.

So now they both want a rescue. No, they got themselves into this mess, so they can just keep adding to the pile of pocket change that Twist is happily stacking on the couch.

Or, “Well, you could always call it a night and head home.” The suggestion is made in a very polite and friendly voice that doesn’t contain a single hint of anything that isn’t polite and friendly, because he's very polite and friendly to these friends who have invaded his home.

Twist's warning look suggests that he disagrees. “Hey, none a that! If yer pockets ‘er gettin’ a little empty, we got plenty of other games we c’n try. Like, uh… hey, bro, what games do we got?”

Twist doesn’t know what games they have? He's so messed up! But he’s still very good at poker, and at heading off Blackberry’s attempts to politely get these people out of his house. Is Twist doing okay or not?! It would feel a lot safer to have them here if he could at least figure that much out. “We have plenty of games; the hard part is figuring out which ones you can play.”

“Oh. Well, nothin’ wrong with changin’ ‘em up a little bit, is there, bro? Worked fer poker.” He grins at his two poker victims.

“Maybe we should try a more traditional sleepover game.” Blue suggests.

“Like what?” Twist asks.

“Yes, like what?” Blackberry asks, thinking of several games he’s heard mentioned in the context of sleepovers. Surely these dear friends of his have the sense to know which of those are absolutely not appropriate.

With a sly smile, Papyrus says, “I’VE HEARD ‘SPIN THE BOTTLE’ CAN BE–”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” All skulls jerk toward Blackberry. Maybe that was a slight overreaction. “I mean… No. No, I don’t think that would be the best idea.” There, that’s a much better response to a wonderful friend who seems to have lost his mind. No need to be rude to guests.

“HMM, YOU MAY BE RIGHT,” Papyrus says, letting Blackberry relax. “AFTER ALL, WE’RE MISSING THE PEOPLE WHO SOME OF US WOULD MOST LIKE TO PLAY IT WITH.”

“WHAT?!” Blackberry does not normally like to raise his voice like that, but really, WHAT?!

“OH, DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT.” Papyrus waves him off. _Waves him off!_ “I ONLY MEANT IT MIGHT BE FUN IF CHERRY WAS HERE.” That is NOT all he meant! Also, Blackberry does not need to hear about whatever Papyrus might get up to with ‘Cherry’. Honestly.

Twist claps his hands together. “_Okay!_ So, thanks fer the suggestion, darlin', but maybe not the best idea right now. What else ya got?”

Both taleverse skeletons think for a moment. “TRUTH OR DARE?” Papyrus suggests.

“Well…” Truth or dare can be fun. Maybe if it was just the three of them, in better circumstances… but no. Not with Twist. Not like this. The number of terrible questions they could ask, maybe without even realizing they’re getting into something they shouldn’t… But he can’t just keep rejecting everything they say. They’re just trying to help - maybe with a little too much friendly teasing, but it’s not their fault they don’t know how vulnerable Twist is right now. It’s terribly rude to keep treating them with such suspicion, but it would be even worse to let them accidentally hurt Twist. <strike>Assuming it would be an accident.</strike> It _would_ be an accident, but Twist would be hurt all the same. He’s been hurt way too much already. But they’re good friends who are just trying to help, and don’t deserve to be treated rudely. Oh, stars, what should he do?

“Not so sure that’s a great idea, sweetheart,” Twist says. Oh, thank you brother! “Not like there’s much I could do fer the ‘dare’ part.” Of course! Focus on the dare part, not the truth part. They’ll understand that.

Blue pouts. “I’m sure we could come up with something you could do.”

“Somethin’ I could do without fallin’ off the couch?” Twist chuckles. “Sorry, sweetheart. Sounds like too much work. What else we got?”

Abandoning the idea of truth of dare, both guests begin digging through the game cabinet. Blackberry slumps against the couch. Patting his shoulder, Twist whispers, “see, bro? Still got some sense in my skull.”

Blackberry smiles, despite himself. “As much as you ever do, at least.”

“Right. Wouldn’ wanna fill it up with more sense than I need. Might crowd out some of my best ideas.”

“Best ideas. Mhm. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to any of those.”

“Hey, bro?”

“Yes?”

“Think I might be kinda thirsty. Or hungry?”

“Oh! Oh, dear, I’ll get you something.”

“Hey, no big deal. Ain’t gonna starve. I was just thinkin’ I might like one a those smoothies ya made me while you all figure out what we’re gonna play.”

“ARE YOU MAKING SMOOTHIES?” Papyrus asks. “I’D LOVE TO LEARN HOW YOU MAKE THEM. I ASSISTED EDGE, ONCE, BUT HE STILL WASN’T QUITE SATISFIED WITH THE RESULTS.”

“Mine are nothing special. Honestly, I can probably come up with something better now that I’m, well, actually awake.”

“Ooh, maybe that’s what we should do next,” Blue says, stars in his eyes. “Cooking, like we always do, but in smoothie form, so Twist can be our taste tester!”

Stars forming in his own eyes, Blackberry happily agrees. It’s been days since he’s done anything fun with his friends, and this particular fun thing doubles as a way to help Twist. Twist cheerfully accepts his role as taste tester, so the three chefs rush off to the kitchen. This excitement lasts about half a minute, until the half-panicked realization that they’ve left Twist unsupervised.

“Sorry, Papy!” Blackberry cries as he races back to the couch, half expecting some kind of disaster to have occurred. None has.

“‘s okay, bro,” Twist chuckles. “I know how it is with you an’ cookin’. Go on back in there. It ain’t that far away.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I’m not alone. Yer all right over there. I c’n see ya.”

“Not well enough. Papyrus and Blue can work on the smoothies. I’ll stay here with you.”

“No ya won’t.”

“Yes I will.”

“Nope. Not gonna let ya.”

“How are you going to stop me?”

“Papyrus!”

“YES, TWISTED-ME?”

“Get my little bro back in the kitchen where he belongs.”

“WHILE I’D LOVE TO HELP, I DO SEE A FEW SMALL PROBLEMS WITH THAT PLAN.”

“The main one being that I’m not going to stay there,” Blackberry says, arms crossed.

“RIGHT. MOSTLY THAT PROBLEM.”

“Is there any way we can move Twist into the kitchen with us?” Blue asks.

“Could make me a bed on the floor.”

“No, absolutely not. I am _done_ with people letting you lay on the floor.” Blackberry growls.

“Floor’s kinda nice,” Twist mutters, but lets it drop.

“How about we move the couch to the kitchen?” Blue suggests. “Then Twist could be right in there with us but still be comfortable.”

“But–” Actually, is there anything in that for Blackberry to object to? Not really. Twist would be comfortable, safe, and within easy reach. “Okay.”

“Great! So, who’s up fer carryin’ me?”

“THAT SHOULD PROBABLY BE ME, UNLESS YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE FOLDED INTO A PRETZEL.”

“Good point, sweetheart. Don’ really need anyone trippin’ over my feet, either. Okay, so, Berrys, you two up fer movin’ the couch? It’s kinda big.”

“But not terribly heavy,” Blackberry says. “Alright, Papyrus, you pick Twist up. Carefully!”

The first ‘Move Twist to the Kitchen’ plan fails spectacularly, of course, because a fun, relaxing sleepover was far too much to hope for. Twist shrieks as soon as his spine leaves the couch, trying to bite Papyrus as Papyrus struggles to lay him back down without dropping him, followed by several minutes of shaking on the couch for reasons that Twist can’t explain to any of them. Blackberry’s own panic is only held off by his friends’ incredibly calm and patient response. They’re good friends. They really are good friends, even though they shouldn’t be here.

“Let’s just give him a minute,” Blue says, lightly hugging Blackberry, while Papyrus inspects his own arm to make sure Twist didn’t manage to actually bite him.

“See why I don’t want you here?” Blackberry whimpers, clinging to Blue.

“I see why you need help.”

“You don’t understand! I don’t even know what set him off! I don’t know what he thinks is happening right now, or – or what he’ll do! Sometimes he just – he could do anything!”

“WHATEVER IT IS WILL BE EASIER WILL BE EASIER TO HANDLE WITH HELP,” Papyrus insists.

“But I – but – he wouldn’t want you to see it.”

“HE’S THE ONE WHO INVITED US HERE.”

“I know, but–” They don’t understand at all! They can’t possibly understand, or they wouldn’t be so calm. “This isn’t the worst of it. He can get so much worse than this. He can – he won’t know what he’s doing.”

Twist whimpers. Papyrus almost places a comforting hand on his shoulder, but slowly pulls it back when Twist snarls at it. They’re both doing everything slowly, calmly, moving in a way that’s obviously meant to be as non-threatening as possible. They're so nice. They shouldn't be here.

“Fucking bitch,” Twist mutters, bones still rattling.

“IS HE TALKING TO ME?” Papyrus asks.

Oh, no. Oh, no, what if they take something Twist says personally? “No! No, I promise he doesn’t even know we’re here. You’re not who he’s talking to.”

“AH, HALLUCINATING, THEN?”

“Yes. I don’t know what he’s seeing, but it’s not us.”

“OH DEAR. IS THERE ANYTHING WE CAN DO TO GET HIM OUT OF IT, OR WOULD THAT JUST MAKE IT WORSE?”

“I don’t know!” Blackberry rubs a hand across his sockets, dismayed to find moisture there. Stop it, stop it, stop it!

“ALRIGHT. IT’S ALRIGHT. HE’S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT,” Papyrus soothes.

“This has happened before, hasn’t it?” Blue asks.

“Yes. A lot. Far too many times.”

“Well, then, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“Good?!”

“Good that he’s been through this before, and he always ended up okay.”

“Not always,” Blackberry insists. Sometimes he’s not okay at all.

“HE MUST HAVE RECOVERED EVENTUALLY.”

“You don’t understand!”

Twist flinches.

“Oh, no. Oh, no, I’ve been yelling. That scares him. I’m scaring him.” He buries his face in his hands. He’s a terrible little brother.

“WELL NOW YOU – now you know, and thank you for the reminder. I will also try to keep my voice down.”

“Thanks,” Blackberry whispers, although he’s not convinced Papyrus can manage it for long.

Blue takes on a contemplative demeanor. “Okay, so, we know not to be loud, and touching him makes him mad–”

“–He’s just scared!” Blackberry hisses.

“I know that. No one’s blaming him. I’m just trying to think what might help.”

“WHAT – sorry, what have you found helpful before?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes talking to him helps, but sometimes he can’t tell who I am, or he thinks he has to protect me, and that just makes it worse. Anything can make it worse. I don’t know what to do.”

“So should we just keep waiting?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I thought I could help but I was actually just making things worse. All I’ve done is make things worse.”

“That seems unlikely,” Papyrus nearly whispers.

“It’s true. Oh, stars, you haven’t seen anything yet. It’s so easy to mess up, and I just keep doing it.”

“Well…” Papyrus hesitates. He obviously can’t find anything to excuse how badly Blackberry is failing his brother. “BUT–”

“Quiet!” Blackberry hisses.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just, clearly, whatever has gone wrong, Twisted-Me always does get better.”

“Not always. Sometimes it’s a complete disaster that just keeps getting worse. Sometimes I just keep _making_ it worse.”

“Until it gets better,” Blue insists.

“I told you, _it never gets better.”_

“Maybe not right away,” Papyrus says, “but eventually he must get better, because clearly he has. Otherwise, Blue and I wouldn’t have lost all of our pocket change this evening.”

“That’s–” actually that’s a really good point. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, you’re right. He always gets better. Eventually. You’re right. I know that.”

“OF COURSE WE’RE – of course we’re right. That’s what friends are for.”

“Right, okay. Wait, no, that doesn’t make any sense at all. Papyrus–”

“Well never mind that. Anyway – OH, TWISTED-ME, HELLO!”

Twist winces, but doesn’t flinch away. “Hey, Paps,” he rasps.

“I TAKE IT YOU’RE FEELING BETTER?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. ‘m great, sweetheart. Just–” Twist looks at all three of them in turn. “Uh… you guys been here a while?”

Blue nods. “For the past several hours, yes.”

“Oh. Uh…” Twist looks away, clenching his fists. Then his eyelight darts to Blackberry. “Hey, bro?”

“Yes, Papy?” Don’t tackle-hug him. Do not. Flinging himself at someone who just had a flashback triggered by someone picking him up is a terrible idea. Don’t do it. Just stay calm and don’t touch.

“Uh… I didn’ do anythin’ weird, did I?”

Blackberry shakes his skull. “No. At least not any more than normal.”

“Oh. Uh… what kinda normal we talkin’ bout?”

“I guess that does cover a lot of things. Sorry. Um, you just… got really shaky? And growled at us a little. And maybe used a few not nice words? Just a little.”

“Oh.” Twist rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry.” Then he frowns at Papyrus. “Did I bite you?”

“NO, NOT AT ALL! WELL, BARELY. LOOK, NOT A SINGLE SCRATCH!” Papyrus holds out his arm for inspection.

“Right. Uh, sorry, sweetheart. Sorry. Yer alright?”

“OF COURSE! OH MY GOODNESS, DO YOU ALWAYS WORRY ABOUT THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU INSTEAD OF YOURSELF AFTER HALLUCINATING?”

“Nah, just–”

Blackberry scowls. “Yes you do.” No way is Twist getting away with denying that.

“Okay, maybe. Uh, anyway, ‘m fine, so if yer all fine, let’s… uh… what were we doin’?”

“Trying to move you and your couch into kitchen, so you could taste test our new smoothie creations,” Blue explains.

“But obviously that was a bad idea, so let’s do something else,” Blackberry says.

Twist’s face falls. “Ya sure? Think I was lookin’ forward to it.”

“WELL, THEN, WE SHOULD CONTINUE,” Papyrus says.

Blackberry shakes his skull. “No, bad idea. We’re not risking two flashbacks in a row just so we can have some fun in the kitchen.”

“Don’ think the kitchen had anythin’ ta do with it,” Twist says, browbone raised.

“I’m not taking that chance.”

“So, what, now I’m stuck on the couch forever? Not much better ‘n bein’ stuck in bed.”

“No! I just mean – well, do you even know what set you off?”

Twist shakes his skull.

“IT HAPPENED AFTER I PICKED YOU UP, SO PERHAPS SOMETHING TO DO WITH THAT? BEING UP IN THE AIR? OR MAYBE HOW I WAS HOLDING YOU?”

“Maybe. Don’ really know what’s real when it happens, sweetheart, so I don’ think I’m gonna be much help figurin’ it out.”

“OH. WELL… AH HAH!” Papyrus raises a finger.

“Got an idea?” Twist asks, amused.

“YES. SINCE WE CAN REASONABLY CONCLUDE THAT IT HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH PICKING YOU UP, THE LOGICAL SOLUTION WOULD BE TO AVOID PICKING YOU UP.”

“Isn’t that the whole problem, though?” Blue asks. “He doesn’t want to stay on the couch.”

“IS THE PROBLEM WITH THE COUCH, OR THE LOCATION OF THE COUCH?”

“Where it is, I guess, since the whole reason ya picked me up was ta move it to the kitchen.”

“RIGHT! SO, WE SIMPLY DON’T PICK YOU UP.”

“Which leaves me on the couch, in here, with no new snacks ta try.”

“INCORRECT!”

“Huh?”

“THERE’S NO REASON THE COUCH SHOULD BE STUCK IN HERE JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE STUCK ON IT. WE’LL SIMPLY MOVE THE COUCH WITH YOU ON IT. JUST DON’T FALL OFF.”

Twist laughs, gripping the couch cushions. “Sure, works fer me.”

“I don’t know,” Blackberry says. “That seems dangerous. What if he does fall off?”

“I’M SURE WE CAN AVOID THAT. SURELY THE THREE OF US WORKING TOGETHER CAN SAFELY MOVE ONE COUCH AND ONE SKELETON.”

“Well, I suppose… maybe if we tilt it back a little bit. Not too far, just enough to keep him from falling, but I’m still not sure–”

“MARVELOUS! BLUE, DO YOU SUPPORT THIS PLAN?”

“Definitely,” Blue says, searching for a good place to hold the couch.

“THEN TO THE KITCHEN WE GO! COME ALONG, EVERYONE, SMOOTHIES AWAIT!”

Blackberry shakes his skull, but takes his place for carrying the couch. Twist is smiling. This ridiculous plan is making him happy. He’s not scared, or confused, or embarrassed, or convinced that he’s done something wrong and everyone is going to die or hate him or punish him for it. That’s pretty good for right after a flashback. Maybe Blue and Papyrus are a little bit helpful. Just a little bit.


	41. Chapter 41

“Ready for the next one?” Blue asks, holding out a smoothie-filled shot glass. It quickly became clear that regular-sized smoothies weren’t going to allow much room for experimentation, given the practical limits on how many a person can drink in one evening.

“Let’s have it!” Twist grins as he knocks back their newest creation. Delicious. He could get used to this. “Hmm… hint of… fuck if I know, but it’s great. Gimme another one jus’ like that.

“NO, NO, NO,” Papyrus chides. “NO REPEATS.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart! That’s the best one yet!”

“THEN THINK HOW MUCH GREATER THE NEXT ONE WILL BE!”

“Maybe we can use this one as a base,” Blackberry suggests, scooping some of the leftovers out of the blender to taste. It turns out blenders aren’t really designed to make an ounce of smoothie at a time, so they’ve just been putting the extra in glasses and storing them in the fridge. “Maybe something to make it a bit sweeter?”

Twist mock-glares. “Nuh uh. No way, bro. I already let ya put a buncha honey in this one.”

“And you liked it!”

“Yeah, but that don’ mean it needs any more.”

“How will you know if you never try?”

“I know what sugar tastes like, little bro, an’ I know this work of art ain’t gonna get any better by dumping in a couple spoonfuls.”

“Papy! You need more calories to keep your HP up.”

“Probly had about five glasses worth of smoothies in the past thirty minutes, bro. Think I’m probly ‘bout set on calories.”

Hands on his hips, Blackberry says, “actually, the fact that you can even drink that much and still want more probably means you haven’t been eating enough.”

“Yeah, think ya might be right. I’m feelin’ pretty good right now, too. Better ‘n earlier, at least. Maybe I was hungrier than I thought.”

Papyrus frowns. “OH, DEAR. THAT WOULD BE OUR FAULT FOR NOT FEEDING YOU ENOUGH.”

“Nah, no way fer you ta know. If I can’t even tell when I’m hungry, how’re you s’posed ta know?”

“HMM, I SUPPOSE. YOU KNOW, WE’RE GOING TO NEED TO TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THIS, SO THEY CAN MAKE SURE TO FEED YOU ENOUGH WHEN IT’S THEIR TURN.”

Blue giggles. “You’re going to have certain people trying to stick straws in your mouth every other second.”

Twist sighs. “Shit. Think ya could maybe hold off on tellin’ ‘em fer a while, darlin’? I’m probly set after everythin’ I drank tonight.”

“NOW, TWISTED-ME, THAT WOULD BE SIMPLY IRRESPONSIBLE. BESIDES, YOU LIKE THESE SMOOTHIES.”

“These ones, yeah, but not everyone’s that great at makin’ ‘em.”

“Well, we can at least build up a reasonable stock in the fridge,” Blackberry says, pouring the remaining contents of the blender into a cup. “I won’t have you going hungry.”

“That should be useful the next time Slim and Cash take a shift,” Blue says. “I’m surprised either of them even knows how to use a blender.”

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that,” Blackberry says with a very sweet smile.

“What’s that s’posed ta mean?” Twist asks, browbones raised. Blackberry pats his arm.

“Nothing, Papy, nothing.”

Papyrus claps his hands together, eyelights darting between the two of them. “ALRIGHT, WELL, VAGUELY OMINOUS STATEMENTS ASIDE, LET’S SEE WHAT OTHER NEW AND INTERESTING FLAVORS WE CAN CREATE.”

“Great plan, sweetheart. Uh, bro?”

“Yes, Papy?”

“None a’ that ‘nothin’’s gonna happen tonight, is it?”

“Of course not, Papy. Why would anything happen tonight?”

More like _how_ would anything happen tonight, given that both skeletons were out of the house by the time Blackberry got anywhere near anyone’s food or drink. They should be fine for now. At least Blackberry doesn’t know where they all spent the afternoon. Sending them home was probably one of Twist’s better decisions. “No reason.”

“How about some avocados?!” Blue says, voice dripping far too much cheer and enthusiasm as he tears the skin off one and tosses it in the blender.

“YES, AVOCADOS ARE A WONDERFUL IDEA!” Papyrus agrees, also with more enthusiasm than avocados probably deserve. “THOUGH PERHAPS WITHOUT THE SEED.”

“Oh, right! Blenders and avocado seeds probably don’t mix!”

Everyone freezes. Then Twist and Blackberry both crack up at the pun, laughing for all they’re worth. Blue and Papyrus both groan, but they’re not fooling anybody.

That awkward moment thoroughly shattered, the three chefs set to work on their newest creation. Balancing the previous smoothie’s flavors with avocado turns out to be quite the process, lasting until the dryer signals the blankets are done.

Twist nearly bounces off the couch in excitement. “Hey, that means it’s time ta go outside, don’ it?”

“Once we have everything properly set up,” Blackberry cautions. “I won’t have you getting cold.”

“Right, right. Somebody go get those blankets, or I’m goin’ out there myself.” He shrugs at their skeptical looks. “Hey, I’ll get there eventually. Might be tomorrow or next week, but I’ll get there.”

“WHILE I’M SURE NO ONE DOUBTS YOUR DETERMINATION, TWISTED-ME, PERHAPS IT MIGHT BE BEST TO STAY WHERE YOU ARE FOR A MOMENT SO WE COULD SET UP A CHAIR FOR YOU?”

“Better get on it, then, sweetheart, ‘cause I’ve been stuck in this house about… how many days?”

“Three,” Blackberry says.

“Three days too long.”

“Alright, alright,” Blackberry says. “I’m getting the blankets. Will one of you please set up the lawn chair, and maybe one for each of us too, and the other one please stay with Twist?”

“Don’ need babysat–”

“You just threatened to crawl outside.”

“Oh. Good point. Okay, who’s my babysitter?”

“I’LL DO IT. AND I’LL CLEAN UP THE KITCHEN A BIT WHILE WE WAIT. AS LONG AS TWISTED-ME CAN MANAGE NOT TO TRY TO ESCAPE THE MOMENT MY BACK IS TURNED?” Papyrus has an adorable threatening glare. Also, a reasonably effective one.

“Think you’d notice me fallin’ off the couch b’fore I managed ta get anywhere, darlin'. I'm pretty easy ta catch.”

“HMM, I SUPPOSE. I’LL STILL BE WATCHING YOU.”

“Excellent,” Blackberry says. “So Blue, you’ll get the chairs?”

“I’ll have them ready in no time!” Blue rushes out of the kitchen.

With a last, worried look, Blackberry goes to collect the laundry.

Instead of cleaning, Papyrus frowns worriedly at Twist. “IS ME CARRYING YOU GOING TO BE A PROBLEM?”

“No, don’ think so, sweetheart. Why?”

“WELL, IT WAS EARLIER. I’M AFRAID I SCARED YOU QUITE BADLY.”

“Huh. Well, I don’ remember any a that, so I’m gonna say no? Probly not?” Although there was something… arms around him? Too many arms, the room spinning and hot like he’d been dosed with something… okay, so probably something did happen. “Think I’m fine now. People’ve picked me up plenty a’ times.”

“ALRIGHT. OH, DEAR, DOES THAT MEAN I DID IT WRONG?”

“Nah. That’d mean there’s some kinda logic or consistency or somethin’ in my fucked-up skull, which there ain’t, far as I c’n tell. Hey, was that why you guys carried me in here on the couch?”

“YOU MEAN YOU HAD NO IDEA WHY WE WERE DOING THAT AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO ASK?”

Twist shrugs. “Mighta known at the time an’ just fergot later. Anyway, I trust you guys. Just assumed ya musta had a reason. And hey, I was right!”

“THAT YOU WERE. OH, DEAR, THIS IS ALL VERY COMPLICATED.”

“Tell me about it.” There was a time, not that long ago, when Twist at least made sense to himself. Most of the time, at least. He misses those days.

“OH, THERE’S BLACKBERRY WITH THE BLANKETS. WELL, I ASSUME BLACKBERRY’S UNDER THERE SOMEWHERE.”

“Would you mind taking a few of these?” the walking pile of blankets asks.

“OF COURSE.” Papyrus takes the whole pile and puts it on the couch. “DID ALL OF THESE FIT IN THE DRYER?”

“No, some of these are from my bed. I realized I’d completely overlooked them in my blanket search. I’m so glad I found them, because I really wasn’t sure whether we had enough.”

“Uh, bro?”

“Yes, Papy?”

“It ain’t winter, is it?”

“No, of course not. We would _not_ be doing this if it was winter.”

“Then how many blankets d’ya really think I need?”

“This many. Now, how would you like to do this? I think we should drape the bedspread over the chair for some cushioning, then set you in the chair, put some pillows on either side for stability, then we’ll tuck the rest of the blankets on top of you.”

“Sounds good ta me.”

“The chairs are ready!” Blue calls from the front door.

“Wonderful!” Blackberry responds, taking a blanket from the pile. “Here, Papy, let’s just wrap you up so you don’t get cold on the way.” He drapes the blanket over Twist, rolling Twist over until it’s wrapped fully around his whole body with no uncovered bones below his skull.

Twist chuckles at his brother’s diligence. “So now that I’m a burrito, we ready ta head out?”

“I don’t know… maybe one more blanket?”

“ADDING ANOTHER BLANKET MIGHT MAKE TWISTED-ME A LITTLE BIT TOO… FLUFFY TO CARRY.”

“Oh. Well, I guess…”

“I’m fine, bro. Alright, Paps, sweep me off my feet.”

It’s less of a sweep and more of a gentle, sideways hug, but Twist isn’t complaining. The rush of crisp air as they step onto the porch is incredible, as is the cacophony of bugs, distant cars, and all the other sounds of a neighborhood after dark. The world spreads out before him, slightly blurry but still recognizable as houses, trees, and plenty of other things that aren’t the inside of his house or Iggy’s lab.

He’s set down in a chair that’s already draped in a couple of blankets. The sights and sounds of nature are maybe the most entrancing thing he’s ever seen – entrancing enough that he doesn’t notice when he starts to tip sideways.

“Papy!” Blackberry cries, grabbing his shoulders.

“Huh?” Twist examines his brother, slowly processing the worry on his face. “‘s okay, little bro.” Everything’s okay. The world is beautiful and Twist is free.

“It is not! You’re falling over.”

“Huh?” The world does look a little bit sideways. “Guess I am.” He tries to straighten his spine, but only gets a twinge in his ribs. Definitely no sitting up. “Uh… help?”

“I am helping.” Everything shifts as Blackberry centers Twist on the back of the chair. “There, that’s better.

“Thanks, bro. You gonna stay there all night?” Because Twist is probably going to fall over again as soon as he lets go.

“No, I – oh, thank you.” Did Twist do something…? No, Blue is giving Blackberry some pillows, which Blackberry stuffs between Twist and the arms of the chair. That makes sense.

“Think I’m thinkin’ kinda slow right now,” Twist tries to explain, though what he’s trying to justify, he isn’t sure.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Blackberry asks, still worried.

“Nah. No. Just… didja know we had a yard like this?”

“Like what?” His babysitters all look around the yard, like they expect to find something different.

Twist isn’t explaining it very well. He knows that. “Like… ‘s pretty, ya know?”

“It’s…? Oh.” Blackberry giggles. “I guess it is kind of pretty, although I think the backyard is better,” Blackberry maybe mutters something about avoiding it just in case Twist decides to eat the flowers or something, but Twist is much more interested in the glow coming from the sky.

“We got good stars here, don’t we?” The blurriness makes them look bigger, if not brighter.

“OH, YES, THEY’RE QUITE NICE, FOR BEING IN TOWN,” Papyrus says, settling into his own lawn chair.

“Think Slim’d like ‘em?”

“I’M SURE HE WOULD. PERHAPS YOU SHOULD INVITE HIM TO COME WATCH THEM WITH YOU SOME TIME.”

“I’m sure Slim can see the stars just as well from his own home,” Blackberry interjects. There’s probably something Twist should be paying attention to with that, but…

“Ooh, you could go stargazing together! Somewhere away from town, without all the lights. All three of you!” Blue says.

“All three of who?” Blackberry asks, really not sounding very happy at all, but Twist can’t quite think why.

“TWISTED-ME, SMALL-ME, AND WEALTHY-ME, OF COURSE. SMALL-ME WOULD LIKE THE STARS THE BEST, I WOULD THINK, BUT I’D IMAGINE THEY WOULD ALL ENJOY THE CHANCE TO GET AWAY FROM IT ALL, JUST THE THREE OF THEM.”

“It would be a lovely date!” Blue exclaims. “You could pack a dinner – well, I’m sure someone would put something together for… you…?”

Why is he…? Oh, fuck.

“A _date?_” Blackberry’s voice just drips with sweetness. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Twist is not coherent enough to deal with this. “And why, exactly, do you think that those two and my brother should go on a date?”

“Because they really like each other?” Blue suggests, not sure how to react to this. Understandable, because no one knows how to react to Blackberry when he gets like this. Twist can do it best, but Twist’s thoughts are moving like tar. Fuck.

“Bro, it’s… he don’ mean…”

“He doesn’t mean what, Papy?”

“They’re not tryna… set me up or somethin’.”

“WE’RE NOT?” Papyrus asks. His sockets widen at Twist’s frantically shaking skull. “I MEAN, OF COURSE WE’RE NOT! WE WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING, WHICH WE KNOW WOULD BE A PROBLEM BECAUSE, WELL, UM… WHY WOULD IT BE A PROBLEM?”

Blackberry frowns at Papyrus, perplexed. “Why wouldn’t it be a problem?”

Papyrus also frowns in confusion. “THAT… IS A VERY ODD QUESTION.”

“What’s odd about it?”

“You want to know why it wouldn’t be a problem to set your brother up for a date?” Blue asks, also very confused. Twist seems to be the only one who isn’t confused, but explaining any of it to any of them is more than he can handle. He’s just going to hope no one kills anyone. Papyrus and Blue won’t. Blackberry… probably won’t. Right? At least not immediately.

“Yes! You – surely you can see the problem with that?”

“OF COURSE, OF COURSE. BUT… WOULD YOU MIND CLARIFYING, JUST TO MAKE SURE WE’RE ALL ON THE SAME PAGE?”

“I… what’s there to clarify? You’ve seen my brother’s condition. Surely you don’t think it’s appropriate, or – or _safe_, to ‘set him up’ for a date?”

“Well not right now, obviously,” Blue says. “Right now he should be home resting, but what’s wrong with a little stargazing picnic after he’s better?”

“If that was all it was, then sure, but – well, maybe Slim would keep it to that - I do hope he would - but Cash… no. I think he’s already shown his intentions quite clearly.”

“THEY WERE RATHER… SNUGGLY THIS EVENING,” Papyrus admits, “BUT I WOULDN’T SAY IT WAS ANY CAUSE FOR CONCERN. IF ANYTHING, WEALTHY-ME WAS RATHER PROTECTIVE, AND VERY CONCERNED ABOUT TWISTED-ME’S COMFORT.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s quite concerned with my brother’s ‘comfort’.” Fuck. Concern for Cash is quickly pushing away what was left of Twist’s peaceful little fog.

“Hey, uh, bro? Yer not… It’s not what ya think. Nobody’s…”

“So your head wasn’t in his lap?”

“Yeah, but that’s – he jus’ didn’t wanna leave my skull on the floor…”

“And neither of you have ever heard of a pillow?”

“Yeah I… look, bro…” Twist is not up for another round of this conversation. He’s just not. But he has to be. It's important. It can't just keep being brushed aside and talked around. Twist just can't, though. It's too complicated. He's not up for complicated. Besides, they have an audience. A very involved audience.

“BLACKBERRY?” Papyrus says hesitantly.

“Yes?” Blackberry snaps. Is that better or worse than the sweet voice? Twist honestly can’t tell right now.

“WHY, EXACTLY, ARE YOU SO CONCERNED ABOUT THIS?”

“I _told_ you–”

“You didn’t, actually,” Blue says, concern overtaking his confusion.

“Well… well then I shouldn’t have to. It’s obvious.”

“It’s really not.”

“It _is_.”

“NO, I REALLY DON’T THINK SO. I THINK… IT’S REALLY NOT OBVIOUS AT ALL WHY YOU WOULD BE SO UPSET ABOUT THE SUGGESTION THAT SOME DAY YOUR BROTHER AND TWO OF HIS FRIENDS MIGHT LIKE TO GO LOOK AT THE STARS TOGETHER.”

“That part isn’t the problem. It’s… It's just..." Blackberry buries his skull in his hands. "How do I know that’s all they would do?”

“YOU DON’T.” Papyrus frowns. “BUT WHY DOES THAT MATTER? KEEPING IN MIND THAT WE’RE TALKING ABOUT LATER, WHEN TWISTED-ME HAS STOPPED HALLUCINATING TERRIBLE THINGS AND IS CONSISTENTLY COHERENT ENOUGH TO NOTICE WHEN HE’S FALLING OUT OF HIS CHAIR.”

“That’s not… even then, I don’t think… look, you don’t know everything.”

“You've said that before,” Blue says, “but I’m not sure what it is that could make it make sense to be so worried about Twist going on a date.”

“I… he doesn’t… I don’t think we should be talking about this.”

“Talking about what?”

“Any of this. I don’t… I don’t…”

Twist reaches for his brother, trying to offer some comfort. He finds Blackberry’s knee, which is shaking. “Alright, I think that’s about enough a' this fer now.”

“But Papy…”

“No.” Twist shakes his skull. “Nobody’s feelin’ up ta this conversation, an’ anyway, it don’ matter right now.”

“It does matter!”

“Not right this second, it don’t. Right now I’m outside fer the first time in days, and I got a brother and two friends with me who went ta all the trouble of gettin’ me out here, so I wanna enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Blackberry whispers, but the shaking does stop, so Twist counts it as a win.

“Great, so, now that we’re out here, what’re we gonna do? I could probly watch the stars fer a while, but I bet I’d fall asleep.”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD JUST DO THAT THEN. WE WOULDN’T WANT TO KEEP YOU FROM YOUR REST.”

“Yeah, sure, eventually, but I wanna enjoy my newfound freedom fer a while, first. Or not exactly freedom, but ya know what I mean.”

“So what would you like to do?” Blue asks.

“Hmm.” What could serve as a good distraction…? “Anybody wanna run in an' grab a pack a’ cards?”

“NO!” Two very sore losers shout. Hey, if they can't beat a guy who briefly forgot that eight was more than five, they have only themselves to blame.

The conversation quickly devolves into teasing and joking, carrying them late enough into the night that Twist isn’t the only one who ends up tired. In fact, the only one who isn’t tired is Blackberry.

“I did sleep all day,” Blackberry points out when this is questioned.

“OH, RIGHT, YOU DID,” Papyrus says with a yawn.

“In certain types of sleepovers, this is when you would wait for us all to fall asleep and then draw unfortunate pictures on our skulls,” Blue giggles, before being interrupted by a yawn of his own.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been interested in that kind of sleepover,” Blackberry says, also giggling.

“WELL THANK THE STARS FOR THAT. BUT ON THAT TOPIC, MAYBE IT’S ABOUT TIME FOR US TO ALL GO INSIDE.”

“Sure we can’t sleep out here?” Twist asks, half seriously. He wouldn’t actually be comfortable sleeping out in the open in such a vulnerable state, but he sure doesn’t want to go inside, either.

“No, I think it’s time to get you back in bed,” Blackberry firmly states.

“SO WILL THIS BE THE SLEEPING PART OF THE SLEEPOVER?”

“Yes,” Blackberry nods. “Except for the part where I’ve been sleeping all day, so I don’t need to sleep.”

“You sure about that, bro? ‘cause ya sure didn’t sleep much before that, and ya did crack yer skull…”

“Which is very much healed.”

“Are you sure?” Blue asks. “No headache, or anything?”

“Thank you for your concern, but no, I’m fine. Now, for sleeping arrangements; Twist will be in his bed, of course, and you two are welcome to my bed, since I won’t be needing it. Once we get some blankets back on it, of course.”

“Then where will you be?” Blue asks.

“With Twist, of course. There’s a perfectly comfortable chair by his bed where I can keep an eye on him.”

“And you expect us to sleep through all of this?”

“Of course. You’re guests, and you’re tired. I wouldn’t want to keep you up.”

“IT WOULDN’T BE TOO TERRIBLY DIFFICULT TO STAY AWAKE WITH YOU. WE COULD TAKE SHIFTS, JUST LIKE IN THE DAYTIME, WITH ONE OF US STAYING UP WITH YOU AND THE OTHER ONE SLEEPING.”

“Nonsense. I’m the only person here who isn’t tired, so I should be the one to stay awake.”

“Actually, bro, nobody needs ta stay awake. I don’ actually need ta be watched every second.” Twist pats the ribs over his soul. “Got an alarm and everythin’. Nobody's sleepin' through that. Plus, I ‘bout can’t shut up when those node things happen–” Everyone winces. Maybe that wasn’t the best reassurance. “Anyway, all I mean is that it don’ really matter if everyone’s sleepin’, long ‘s no one’s so tired they can’t wake up.”

“Which no one should be,” Blackberry sighs ruefully, “given that no one has stayed awake for three days this time.”

Twist pats his skull. “Right, bro.”

“Well, regardless, I’m not tired, so I should be the one to watch Twist.”

“WE COULD ALWAYS SLEEP ON THE FLOOR OF TWIST’S ROOM, SO YOU WON’T BE ALONE IN THERE,” Papyrus offers.

“No, no, don’t be silly. There’s no reason to sleep on the floor when there’s a perfectly good bed available. You’re welcome to check on us whenever you wake up, but we’ll be fine.”

“IF YOU’RE SURE…”

“I am sure. Besides, I know my brother said he’s not terribly concerned about privacy right now, but brother, surely you’d like to keep any bad dreams to yourself, if possible?”

Showing them to Blackberry doesn’t exactly count as keeping them to himself, but he does have a point. “Alright. Long ‘s you two make sure ta check on us when ya wake up, and make this mother hen _go ta bed_ by mornin’ if I can’t, then I’m good with this plan. But bro, ya gotta promise me you’ll go ta sleep when ya get tired. And get help if ya need it.”

“Of course I will, brother.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, I – I promise.”

“SO, SHALL WE ALL MOVE INSIDE?”

“I guess. Or, ooh, better idea, darlin'! How 'bout this. Let’s set up a tent out here, an' fold these blankets up into sleepin' bags, so that way we c’n all get some sleep without goin’ inside!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Blackberry says, arms crossed, trying to keep a straight face. He's going to fail.

“But I like bein’ ridiculous!”

“I thought you were tired.” Blackberry scowls, but there’s laughter in his voice, and the sides of his mouth are twitching. Being ridiculous always wins.

“I c’n be tired and ridiculous at the same time. ‘s one of my many talents.”

“AND A FINE TALENT IT IS,” Papyrus praises as he lifts Twist out of the chair. “ONE THAT YOU’RE WELCOME TO SHOW OFF IN THE MORNING, AFTER SOME SLEEP.”

“But I won’t be tired then, darlin'. How’m I s’posed ta show it off if half of it’s missin’?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to be ridiculous enough to make up for it,” Blackberry giggles, giving up on any pretense of staying serious as he and Blue collect the blankets and pillows and trail after Papyrus. “But for now, it’s bedtime.”


	42. Chapter 42

Twist snuggles into bed, content with Blackberry watching over him and Papyrus and Blue just down the hall to watch over Blackberry. This whole LV treatment thing really isn’t that bad. Sure, a lot of it sucks, what with the pain and the flashbacks and the helplessness that won’t let him do anything but still somehow never quite keeps him from hurting everyone. Well, okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. Usually he’s pretty safe. He’d never manage to hurt anyone at if they’d all just have the sense to stay away and not touch him. But, well, they’re good friends, really good friends, and good friends never listen about Twist being dangerous.

At least everyone in the house right now is reasonably durable. That’s at least half of Twist’s current happiness. He can go to sleep safe in the knowledge that the worst he can possibly do is embarrass himself. That’s fine. He can live with a little embarrassment.

Pulling the blankets up to his mandible to hold off the chill in the room, he smiles at the memory of the evening. Today was fun, except for the morning. Time with Cash and Slim was fun, with a few obvious exceptions. Movie night was fun. The sleepover was fun. Now Blackberry’s catching up on his reading – something for school, as Twist vaguely recalls – and he promised not to stay up too late. Papyrus and Blue are going to make sure he keeps that promise, so it’s all good.

Even if it is a little hot in here. Twist shifts, trying to push the blankets away without reactivating his little brother’s protective instincts. Blackberry needs to focus on school. He’s probably started to fall behind because of spending so much time taking care of Twist. That’s not right. School is important. Blackberry is not going to waste the chance at a real education for doing something he loves just because Twist can’t solve his own problems without making them everyone else's problems. No one is going to mess up their lives for Twist. He won't let them.

Ugh. _Fuck_ it’s hot in here. Did Blackberry turn up the heat? He was so worried Twist was going to get cold outside. It wasn’t even that cold. Now it’s just… is something on fire? It’s so stars-damned hot.

He tries to push the blankets away, but can’t manage much more than a twitch of his arm. Shit, what’s wrong? Something’s wrong with him – which is going to distract Blackberry, so Blackberry won’t be able to get his work done, so he’ll fall further behind in school and won’t have time to catch up so they’ll kick him out and destroy his dreams so he won’t even have _that_ when Twist is gone – No, Twist won't be gone. He won’t, he _won’t_, that’s the whole point, he knows that. It’s just hard to think when it’s so fucking _hot._

He scrabbles ineffectively at the blankets, trying not to whimper, because if he does then Blackberry will definitely think something’s wrong. It’s so hot, boiling in his ribcage, stabbing heat boiling out from his soul. Heat shouldn’t stab, that doesn’t make sense, but it is and it hurts it’s so hot he can’t move can’t move it hurts can’t move it hurts can’t move.

His throat hurts. He must be screaming. No, shut up shut up shut _up,_ don’t bother Sans! Sans is busy. Sans has more important things to do than worry about Twist. Always so worried, shouldn’t worry about Twist, Twist just gets what he deserves, it’s okay it’s all okay it _hurts!_

Voices speak beyond the screaming. Can’t hear what they’re saying, but they’re all around, everywhere trapping him can’t move can’t escape can’t –

Cold on his ribs. Oh stars, angel, thank the stars, thank anybody, it’s cold. Everything is hot and hurts but there’s cold on his ribs, cold and wet and – somebody’s talking to him. He knows that voice. It’s soothing and saying soft words. He knows those words, knows those voices, saying he’ll be okay and it’ll be over soon. He knows them. They’re –

_TOUCHING HIM! _ Hands all over, hurts everywhere, can’t move, screaming – _shut up,_ don’t give them the fucking satisfaction. Fuck it hurts can’t stop can’t get away get away get away can’t _breathe!_

Can’t breathe, dizzy, hurts, can’t breathe, no air, spinning, hurts, can’t breathe can’t breathe _touching him_ moving him let go let go please let go oh thank fuck there’s air.

Air rushes into his ribcage, through the mana lines that run past his soul, almost sweet enough to block out the inferno inside him, enough to hear something beyond his own screams. Can’t understand but it sounds wrong, something’s wrong, something – Sans! Something’s wrong with Sans!

“Sn?”

Sans says something in reply, but Twist can’t hear it, can’t understand because he won’t shut his stupid mouth, never shuts up, won’t even listen to Sans. There’s a sob, fuck, Sans is _crying_. _Something’s wrong with Sans!_ Can’t tell what, can’t hear, can’t think, too much pain. Is Sans hurt? Please don’t be hurt. Sans shouldn’t hurt, not like Twist, don’t be hurt, doesn’t deserve it, please don’t be hurt. Twist can’t help. Sans is crying and Twist can’t help, can’t even understand why Sans is crying.

“S-san-s?” he forces out. Oh _fuck_, talking is hard. “Sans – aghn – Sans wha’s wron’?” Sharp inhalations, focus on breathing, have to be quiet, have to hear what’s wrong with Sans. Listenlistenlistenfuckit_hurts_whogivesashitignorethepain_something’swrongwithSans_ listen to what he’s saying, can’t hear what he’s saying, shut your fucking worthless mouth you total fuckup be _quiet!_

***

“Papy! Papy it’s ok you’ll be ok you just need to breathe! Just breathe, it’s ok I’ve got you. Papy you need to breathe! Stop doing that! Get your face out of the blanket! You can’t breathe like that! Why are you doing that? You’re just making it worse! Stop it! Please stop it brother please! You’re hurting yourself!” The blanket Twist has shoved in his mouth muffles choked cries that punctuate quick desperate gasps as Twist's weakened magic tries to draw in air through the fabric. “Oh no, Papy you have to stop this. Papy. Papy! Why are you doing this?! Stop it!”

“What’s going on?!” Blue shouts, running into the room with Papyrus.

“Node attack,” Blackberry whimpers, “but also, he keeps trying to choke himself!”

“WE NEED TO GET THAT BLANKET AWAY FROM HIM.” Papyrus reaches for the blanket, but Blackberry stops him.

“No, you’ll just scare him more!”

“SUFFOCATING SEEMS LIKE A SLIGHTLY LARGER PROBLEM THAN BEING SCARED.”

“I know, but if we scare him it could send him into a flashback and he might not be able to get out of it and that can be really, really bad! We’ve got to at least try to get him to understand what’s happening.” Twist makes an awful choking sound. “Brother, why are you doing this? Please let me have the blanket. I promise nothing bad will happen. Just let me have the blanket.” He gently grasps the part near Twist’s mouth, but Twist bites down on the blanket. Blue pulls Blackberry’s hand away.

“You’re not going to help anyone by losing a finger.”

“I know! But I don’t know how to–” Twist screams through the blanket, then stuffs more of it into his mouth. “Oh, no. Oh stars, I know what he’s doing. Papy, are you trying not to scream?” Twist doesn’t answer, but it seems pretty obvious. “Please don’t hurt yourself to stop screaming. Please, brother. I don’t care if you scream.” That didn’t come out right. “I mean, I hate that you’re hurt, but it’s okay to scream if you’re hurt! You just have to breathe.” Twist absolutely would suffocate himself if he thought it would keep him from upsetting Blackberry. Not intentionally to the point of death, <strike>probably</strike>, but no one in their right mind would trust him to know where that line is right now. “Please let me have the blanket.”

“This can’t go on much longer,” Blue says.

“I know! I know it can’t. And it’s worse because he already got stuck facedown on the pillow a minute ago, so he’s already probably low on oxygen. Papy, you have to breathe! Please let go!” Twist only bites down with more determination.

“UM…” Papyrus gestures towards Twist’s cheeks, which Blackberry already knows are completely drained of color, thank you very much. He doesn't need it pointed out. “I THINK MAYBE WE NEED TO HURRY THIS ALONG.”

“That would mean holding his hands down and prying open his mouth!” Blackberry snaps.

“Okay, yes, that’s bad, but he would still be alive, right?” Blue says.

“Yes, but…” Blackberry is so tired of torturing his brother. “I HATE THIS!” he screams, making Twist flinch. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, Papy, and I’m so sorry that – look, will you please let go of the blanket? If you don’t, we’ll have to take it.” Twist doesn’t react. He probably doesn’t even understand what’s going on.

“Okay, okay so… what we need to do is… um…” he braces himself. “Okay. One of you needs to get his hands away from the blanket and hold onto them, and the other needs to hold his head still while I pry his jaw open and get the blanket out. He’s probably going to freak out, so we’ve got to do this fast.”

“I’ll get his skull,” Blue offers. “I fit on the bed better.”

“AND I’LL HAVE AN EASIER TIME REACHING PAST BOTH OF YOU TO HOLD HIS HANDS.”

“Good. Great. Okay. Um… let’s go.”

It goes about as terribly as expected. No one gets hurt, but Twist absolutely loses his mind, flailing in a way that would have caused injuries all around if not for swift, coordinated actions between the three of them. Twist starts shrieking the moment the blanket is out of his mouth – whether in terror or agony is impossible to tell. The three retreat with the blanket as quickly as possible, making sure no possible traps or sources of suffocation remain.

Any subsequent attempts to reach Twist for comfort only cause more screaming. Placing fresh, cold towels on Twist’s ribs nearly earns Papyrus a scar to match his fellverse counterparts, but Twist lets the towels stay in place, and maybe screams slightly less afterwards, so Papyrus declares it worth the risk. “ALTHOUGH I THINK I MIGHT NOT TRY IT AGAIN, UNLESS IT’S AN EMERGENCY.” After that, there’s nothing to do but watch and hope it ends soon.

Eventually the desperate screams subside into whimpers and the gasps fade into panting.

“That means he’s getting better, right?” Blue’s voice wavers.

Blackberry nods. “Hopefully. Or he just can’t – I hope he’s getting better.” The alternative is that he’s run out of strength to scream.

“Sss.” Twist whispers. “Ssah. Sa-ans?”

“Brother? You’re awake! How are you feeling? Are you better? Is it over? Can you drink some water?” Blackberry nods his thanks when Papyrus puts a water bottle in his hand, but doesn’t take his eyelights off of his brother, who struggles to open his own sockets.

“S’ry. ‘m s’ry. Sorry Sans. S’ry.”

“Hey, shh. You have nothing to apologize for. Here, just try some water. It’ll help you talk.” Twist obligingly sips from the straw Blackberry puts between his teeth. “There, isn’t that better? Now let’s just rest a for a minute. There’s no rush.”

“S’ry. Dn’t mean ta… ignore ya. Dn’t mean…. Wha’s wron’?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Papy. Everything’s going to be just fine. Just rest.”

Twist squints at him, eyelight flickering. “Were cryin’. Worried. Tried ta ask. Ask you. I wouldn’ shut up, so I couldn’ hear ya. Sorry. ‘ll listen now. Whasa matter?” Twist trying to look earnest and reassuring while still in such pain is just… indescribably painful.

“I’m just fine, Papy, I promise. Was that what you were doing earlier? Trying to figure out why I was upset?” That’s a disturbingly plausible explanation for Twist deciding not to breathe.

Twist twitches his skull in a nod.

“Oh, Papy, please don’t do that. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Were cryin’,” Twist insists.

“Only because I don’t like to see you hurt.”

“Oh. S’ry. Sorry. You c’n–” A coughing fit cuts Twist off.

Blackberry quickly presses the water bottle back against his mouth. “Here, try to drink more water, okay?” Twist does, gulping until the bottle is empty. “Do you want more?”

“Nah.” Twist lets the straw fall from between his teeth. “‘m good.”

“Are you feeling a little better?”

“Yeah, better. Thanks, bro.” Twist does sound much stronger. “Sorry for worryin’ ya so much. I’ll try not ta be so much trouble.”

“Papy! You’re not trouble! I’m happy to take care of you! I just don’t like seeing you hurt and not being able to do anything about it.”

Twist frowns. “Oh. Uh... maybe go take a break? Go, uh…” He looks around, startling at the sight of Blue and Papyrus. “Heya, Paps ‘n Blueberry.”

“HELLO.”

“Hi?”

“Whatcha doin’ here?”

“Helping Blackblackberry take care of you,” Blue explains.

“Oh, right, the sleepover… babysittin’ thing. Fergot.”

“THAT’S QUITE ALRIGHT. PERFECTLY UNDERSTANDABLE.”

“Yer helpin’?”

“WELL, TRYING TO, AT LEAST. AND SOMETIMES SUCCEEDING!”

Twist smiles. “Thanks, darlin’. Tha’s real nice. Helpin’.”

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Blue suggests.

Twist nods, rolling sideways and letting his sockets close.

***

Twist is so tired. Hurts. Sleep is nice. He should sleep.

“Maybe you should eat something first.” Sans is worried. Can’t sleep yet. Better go eat. Be fine. Have to be fine. Don’t make Sans sad.

“Sure, little bro.” He’s already rolled over to sleep. It’s not too hard to keep on rolling. He can figure the rest out once he makes it to the floor.

“BROTHER!” Sans catches him before he rolls over the edge. Always helping. So stubborn. “Stay. In. Bed.”

“Was jus’ gonna go get a smoothie.” He snuggles up around Sans. Little bro is so snuggly. And stubborn.

“Someone can bring you a smoothie. You stay in bed.”

“Bed’s boring.” Off topic, but also true.

“But aren’t you tired?”

“Still boring.”

“We can find something else fun to do in the morning. Right now you need food and sleep.”

“Tired a' sleep.”

“Well you need it.”

“Tired a'… all a' this.” So tired. Everything always hurts, and he can’t do anything, can’t help Sans… Blackberry. Sans is Blackberry, and Blackberry is all grown up. Doesn’t need Twist to take care of him. Just needs Twist to listen. Do what he’s told. Just listen. Blackberry is talking, so Twist should listen.

“Okay, um… hey, would you guys minds going to get a smoothie.”

Confusing. “Not supposed ta get outta bed.”

“Not you, brother. You stay right here while our friends go make you a lovely new smoothie.”

“Getting one from the fridge would be faster,” Blue says.

“WE SHOULD PROBABLY LEAVE THOSE FOR LESS CULINARILY INCLINED CARETAKERS,” Papyrus objects. “IN FACT, LET’S WORK ON STOCKING UP A LITTLE BIT MORE.”

“I’m not sure this is quite the time for–”

“IT’S EXACTLY THE TIME!”

Maybe Twist misses something there, because Blue just says, “Oh,” and they leave without further discussion.

Blackberry re-situates Twist on his pillow and sits down next to him. “There, now let’s just get you relaxed and settled in for bed.”

“Don’ wanna relax. Wanna help.”

“You can help by drinking your smoothie and going to bed.”

“'m in bed. 'm always in bed.”

“That’s not true. You spent hours out of bed today.”

“Didn’ do anythin’. Just made ya cry.” Because Twist is a bad, useless brother who can’t even do as he’s told.

“Oh, Papy, that’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Keep makin’ ya cry, ‘n I can’t help.”

“You’ve helped me with plenty of things. This just happens to be a time when you need my help.”

“Couldn’t make ya go ta bed.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m an adult and can set my own bedtime. Even if I did a really bad job of it,” Blackberry sheepishly admits.

There’s probably something else to be said there about letting adults make their own stupid decisions, but given that Twist’s stupid decisions are the reason Blackberry keeps crying, it doesn’t seem worth it. Nothing seems worth it. “Couldn’t help ya.”

“That’s not your job right now.”

“’s always my job.” And he always fails at it. “S’posed ta protect ya.”

“You do protect me. You always have.”

“Didn’t do it right. Ever’body else kept their bro safe without fuckin’ their souls up so much they gotta burn the LV out.”

“Okay, no,” Blackberry growls, rolling Twist back to the middle of the bed. “We’re not doing that. No deciding everyone else did everything perfectly and you’re just a terrible brother.”

“But–”

“No. First of all, two of the sets of brothers we know got to grow up where no one was even trying to kill them, so that made that job a lot easier. Then, let’s see, Lotus barely even knows his brother, and doesn’t want to, so that pair doesn’t count. Cash’s brother – we don’t know too much about him, but everything I’ve seen suggests that he was awful. Slim and Razz are only just now learning how to get along, so something clearly went terribly wrong there. Red and Edge are actually a shockingly lovely pair of brothers, for the most part, but I would hardly accuse either of them of being sheltered.”

“But–”

“And don’t forget that in every other pair, there’s someone who can’t gain LV. I could have, but you made sure I never had to. So yes, you did protect me, and now we’re working on fixing what you had to do to yourself to do it.”

“But – but bro, I keep makin’ ya cry.”

“Because I hate to see you hurt. And I know it can’t be avoided right now, so I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt in ways we _can_ avoid.”

“'m not that breakable.”

“I don’t think you’re breakable. I still don’t want you hurt.”

That would be nice, but it’s kind of unreasonable to hope for. “Dunno… uh, bro, I dunno what ta do about that. ‘m just a stupid fuckup that jus’ keeps–”

“YOU ARE NOT A STUPID FUCKUP!”

Something crashes downstairs, but they both ignore it.

“Sorry,” Twist mumbles.

“Stop saying sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But ya keep–”

“I know I keep crying! I’m trying to stop!”

“Don’ gotta stop cryin’. I just gotta stop makin’ ya cry.”

“You do not–!” Blackberry takes a deep breath. “You are not responsible for my emotions.”

“Huh?”

“You’re not – it’s not your job to make sure I’m never upset about anything.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I know that, little bro. ‘s just…” Twist rubs the back of his neck. Why do they keep talking about this stuff? He’s usually better at avoiding it. And at avoiding making Blackberry cry.

“You just don’t want me hurt. I know. I don’t want you hurt, either. But maybe…" Blackberry pauses, thinking very hard. "Maybe sometimes we do get hurt, and… and the world doesn’t end, and we still have each other, and we can hurt for each other, but that’s okay. Maybe?”

“Yeah,” Twist sighs. “Maybe.” That doesn’t change the way the tears still sitting in Blackberry’s sockets make something in Twist’s ribcage tighten in a way that hurts worse than the LV treatment. Blackberry is hurting because Twist is hurting. Blackberry always hurts when Twist hurts. Twist can’t hide when he’s hurting, so Blackberry keeps finding out about it, and keeps crying. Twist keeps hurting Blackberry like a terrible brother and Twist knows his thoughts are spiraling and this is the opposite of what Blackberry was just telling him to do and Blackberry wouldn’t want this, doesn’t want this, doesn’t want him calling himself a stupid terrible brother, would just hurt more if he heard that so Twist’s got to stop saying stupid shit like that because it just hurts his brother but he can’t stop why can’t he stop stop stop stop stop!

“'m sorry. Sorry, Sans.” No, stop, he’s still doing it. Sans-Blackberry said no more apologies. Twist is being stupid. “Didn’ mean ta upset ya.” Then why’s he still doing it? More tears, nonono, tears are dripping again. Pull it together. Twist isn’t even that upset. He’s just being stupid. “Ya know me, I just say whatever stupid shit comes inta my head.” A glare. Oops. “Hey! Don’ look at me like that. I didn’ say _I_ was stupid, I said I got some stupid _thoughts_, an’ ya can’t say I don’ have some stupid thoughts.” Blackberry just shakes his head. Not good enough. Deflect, deflect, deflect. He's good at deflecting. “Hey, remember las’ month or week or whenever it was when Razz was actin’ like a stuck up prick around Slim again an’ I said… Hey! Are ya cryin’ again? What’re ya cryin’ for? I didn’t do anythin’ _that_ bad.” Of course Blackberry is crying. He was already crying. That’s what this whole thing is about. Keep it together. “It’s ok!” Very convincing when Twist can’t even remember not to make him cry. Pull it the fuck together. “Everythin’s gonna be ok, little bro. ‘s jus gonna take time.” Voice softening, he continues, “I’ll be ok too. Don’ listen ta me ramblin’. Y'know I don’ even know what ‘m talkin’ ‘bout half the time. Not totally sure what we’re talkin’ 'bout now. ‘m really not at m’ best right now. C'mon, there’s no reason ta cry. C'mere, I wanna give ya a hug but I don’ think I can reach ya.”

Twist tries to look reassuring and welcoming. Maybe he finally succeeds, because Blackberry climbs onto the bed and wraps gentle arms around his ribcage. He even stops crying.

In the silence that follows, Blue peeks his skull through the doorway, whispering, “smoothies are ready, if you’d like one.”

“Sure, bring it on in.” Twist gestures Blue, and Papyrus behind him, into the room. Blue hands him the smoothie, which he takes with the arm that isn't embracing a stubborn little brother. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Yes, thank you both,” Blackberry sniffs as he tries to wiggle out of the hug without knocking Twist’s arm away or bumping the smoothie. Twist fixes that by resting the cup on his skull. “Brother!”

“Hey, it’s heavy!” Twist grins over Blackberry's indignant flailing, but moves the cup to rest against his own ribs, instead. Blackberry stops flailing, apparently accepting that he’s not getting out of this hug. Twist happily sips his smoothie.

Papyrus takes the cup when Twist finishes, assuring Blackberry that the two of them will clean everything up before going back to bed. Blackberry mutters a few small protests about getting back to his reading, but makes no further move to escape.

Twist's thoughts drift freely after they leave.“Ya know what you should do,” he murmurs after a minute of just relaxing, “you ‘n Paps ‘n the Blueberry ‘n the Edgelord?"

"Hmm?"

"You should all get tagether ta bake somethin’ fancy.”

Blackberry giggles, voice just a little bit shaky. “Why should we do that?”

“‘Cause it’d be fun. Make somethin’ like one of those cakes on that show that look like a guitar er an octopus or some fancy shit like that. Or - or one of those things where they draw pictures on the plate with sauce to make it look sophisticated 'n shit. Or cookies! Ya like ta make cookies! Go make some cookies. That's less fancy than the others, so I guess... fancy cookies! Like on that other show. Ya know, that one where they make all those fancy cookies? Wha’s that show? You were watchin’ it with Edge that one time. Full a' sugar ‘n butter ‘n cream ‘n all that shit, but nobody makes a cookie ta be healthy. You guys should learn how ta make ‘em an’ go on that show! You’d definitely win,” Twist nods decisively.

“Papy! I’m not that good a cook,” Blackberry giggles again at Twist’s enthusiasm.

Operation Cheer Up With Nonsense is a resounding success, as usual. Also, Blackberry would do great on those shows. Everyone would love him. And his cookies. How could they not? “What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout, bro? Yer fantastic! Everyone knows it. You know it too, so don’t pretend ya couldn’ do it.”

Blackberry shakes his skull with a smile. “Sorry Papy, I’m just not sure I’d be up to competing against some of the people on those shows, especially with an audience.”

“Better get ta practicin’, then. Maybe not tanight, ‘cause tanight we’re gonna get some sleep, but I expect ta see a frostin'-covered octopus sittin’ on the table by noon tomorrow.”

“I don’t really think–”

“Hey, now, the Magnificent Sans ain’t doubtin’ his own skills, is he?”

“Certainly not,” Blackberry huffs. “It’s kind of hard to create works of culinary art when you won’t let me out of bed, though.”

“Eh, you’ll figure it out. ‘s bedtime, anyway.”

“I just woke up a few hours ago.”

“Hey, what a coincidence, me too. Still bedtime.”

“That’s different. I don’t need constant naps.”

“Who’s nappin'? ‘s bedtime.”

“So you’re the expert on my sleep schedule, now, are you?” Blackberry tries to look offended. He fails.

“What c’n I say? I’m doin’ better at it than you are.” A little bit risky to mention directly, but hopefully…

Blackberry buries his giggles in Twist’s ribcage. Hah! The success continues! “That still doesn’t–!” he cracks up again. “Still doesn’t mean–”

“What don’t it mean, little bro?” Twist grins, fondly stroking the back of his brother’s skull. “That yer tired enough ta lose it over every stupid thing I say?”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Not sayin' I'm stupid. Don’ mean I can’t say stupid things, though. ’s one a' my great joys in life.”

“Oh.” Blackberry tries to be serious for a moment, then cracks up again. “I guess it is.”

“Uh huh. Hey, bro?”

“Yes, brother?” Blackberry giggles.

“Yer tired, ain’tcha?”

“No.” Twist just waits. “Maybe a little bit?”

Twist pats his skull, earning an amused glare. “There, was that so bad?”

“It’s silly. I shouldn’t be tired. I just woke up.”

“After stayin’ up fer three days takin’ care of me.”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Nope.” Twist chuckles at Blackberry’s growl. “At least not 'til ya actually get caught up on sleep.”

“Ugh, fine,” Blackberry sighs, sounding about ten years younger and from a world that actually lets people be teenagers. “You don’t need to keep me in bed, though.”

“If I let ya go, are ya gonna stay up all night watchin’ me?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Of course not!”

“Uh huh. An’ I know ya wouldn’t lie ta yer big bro, wouldja?”

“No.” Blackberry sighs, then mutters. “Maybe? Not on purpose.”

“Yer gonna accidentally lie ta me?”

“Um, maybe? Although I guess that’s not really ‘lying’ so much as just ‘being wrong’. I just… no, I’m not lying. But maybe, I might possibly… well, it’s just really hard to go to sleep when I’m worried about something happening to you. I might miss something!”

“We got some friends downstairs who’d be happy ta keep an eyelight on me.”

“I know. I should let them. If it really doesn’t bother you, then I really should… but I just… brother, what if you dream about Muffet?” Blackberry’s arms tighten around Twist’s ribs <strike>skeletal arms that are nothing like spider arms so _fuck off._</strike> “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bring her up, but you can’t exactly say it’s unlikely.”

“‘s fine.” Twist shakes his skull, shoving memories and fucked up associations back where they belong. “Look, bro, we’re not gonna keep goin’ around in circles 'bout this. ‘s my business if I’d rather give some friends front row passes ta my fucked up skull than let ya burn yerself out. I’m givin’ ya two choices, here. You pick. Either get some sleep like ya promised ya would, or I’m callin’ them both up ta stay in here all night an’ I don’ give a shit what they see.”

“That’s a weird thing to threaten me with.”

“It ain’t a threat. You’ve lost yer mind if ya think I’d ever threaten ya with anythin’. Those are just the two choices ya left me with. I’m not gonna be the reason we spend another night dyin’ on the floor.” Blunt, but necessary.

“That wasn’t–” Tears drip onto Twist’s ribs. “Oh, Papy, that wasn’t your fault. That was my fault, so _completely_ my fault. I know I was so stupid, and I promise I won’t ever do anything like that again. I just couldn’t… but… but you told me I was doing too much, and I should have listened, should have trusted someone like you wanted me to. I don’t know why I didn’t. They’re our friends! I just…”

“Hey, bro, shhh. I know. ‘s alright. I know how hard it is ta trust people. I know. Just ‘cause somebody’s all nice ‘n friendly when things’re good don’t mean it’s safe ta hand ‘em all yer weaknesses. I know.”

“But you want to let them take care of you?”

“I decided it’s worth the risk.”

“How did you do that?”

“Well, _somebody_ you don’t trust one bit started it all by gettin’ me outta the latest hellhole I’ve thrown myself into an’ takin’ damn good care of me, even after gettin’ a pretty good view of some a' those weaknesses we’re so worried about." That's probably as far as he should push the Cash thing, for now. "The rest of it is just… look, all these guys’ve been real good friends ta us, and we’re not in the Underground anymore, an’ just… when the other option is you grindin’ yerself down ta dust doin’ more than one person c’n deal with on their own, I just think it’s worth the risk.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I… if you really want to trust them that much, I’ll try. I almost think… actually I really do think… I think I could trust them, too, if it was me. It’s just different… I mean…”

“‘s different when it’s yer bro. I get it, bro, I really do. I bet they’d get it, too.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. So what’s it gonna be? Gonna join me fer a nap, or do we both need babysitters?”

“I wouldn’t make a very good babysitter if I was asleep.”

“Sure ya would. Just stay right here, and ya won’t miss a thing. I’m really not quiet.”

“Except when you decide to gag yourself so you can’t scream.”

“Yeah, that was stupid. Tell ya what, bro; I’ll promise not ta do that again if you promise ta take a nap. Doesn’t even hafta be the whole night. Jus’ go ta sleep for a little while, an’ once ya wake up, you c’n do whatever ya want. Sound good?”

“I’m not even that tired.”

“Sure, bro, whatever ya say.”

“I’m not!”

“Then how ‘bout ya keep me company fer a while. I could use a hug.”

“You’re getting a hug. I’m pretty sure this is the longest hug I’ve ever given anyone.”

“Might as well keep goin’ an’ make it a world record, then.”

“Is there a world record for longest hug?”

“Probly. We can have Blue or Paps look it up in the mornin’.”

“I could go look it up right now.”

“And break our record before it even gets started?”

“Maybe we’ve already beaten it. How can we know unless I go look it up?”

“Can’t take the chance. Unless yer tired of huggin’ me already?” Twist feigns hurt.

“No,” Blackberry says with complete sincerity. “I’d never get tired of hugging you. I want to be able to hug you forever.”

“Aww, bro…” Twist sighs, and holds his brother tighter. “Course you c’n hug me forever. That’s the whole point.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Blackberry snuggles his skull under Twist’s jaw. “I’m not hurting your ribs, am I?”

“Nah, they’re fine.” Although he doesn’t mind when Blackberry ‘hmm’s and shifts to rest more of his weight on the bed. Fine doesn’t necessarily mean comfortable. “Now they’re even better.”

“Oh, Papy…”

Twist isn’t quite sure what he’s being chided about, but that’s okay. He’s tired. He snuggles Blackberry closer. Little bro is safe. There’s no better way to rest comfortably than knowing little bro is safe.

“Do I make a good teddy bear?” Blackberry giggles.

“Yep. Best teddy bear. Tiny n’ cuddly.

“Hey!” Blackberry doesn’t mean that protest. He never does. He likes being cute and soft, especially now that those are safe things to be. They’re safe. Everyone is safe. Twist is sleepy.

“‘s okay. I think... think maybe I… think… night bro.” Twist sleeps.

***

Blackberry should get up. He really should. Falling asleep in Twist’s bed isn’t a good idea. It really isn’t. Even if Twist is clinging to him like a teddy bear. Even if Twist is finally calm and comfortable. Even if Twist is holding on so tightly that getting away would definitely wake him up. Even if he promised to get some more sleep, himself, and the thought of being so far away from Twist, even just over in the chair where he could easily sleep through a nightmare or plenty of other awful things is terrifying. Even with all of that, he should get up. Falling asleep in Twist’s bed will cause problems. He really should get up.

He shifts around to test Twist’s hold. Twist whimpers.

Blackberry stills. “Shh, shh,” he soothes, sending back a wave of gentle projections. Not with the intensity of before. He can’t use all of his time and energy projecting. Trying was probably part of what wore him out so badly last time. No, it’s best to try for some simpler means of comfort, most of the time. He nuzzles his skull against Twist’s ribs. Twist sighs, and relaxes.

Maybe staying here isn’t such a bad idea. Twist is happy. It could go wrong, but Twist seems to have accepted that possibility. Twist is good at that – not necessarily courting danger, but not letting bad outcomes stop him from doing what he wants to do. It’s not that he thinks bad things can’t happen, just that he can probably deal with them if they do. That’s not always a good thing, because sometimes the consequences are really bad, but, well… it’s not like Blackberry’s worry has exactly made things go smoothly, either. Maybe it’s about time to trust Twist’s judgement on something. Besides, how often does he get a chance to snuggle with his brother? And Twist is right that he’s still tired.

Staying in bed for more snuggling is really the only reasonable option. Soon, Blackberry joins his brother in sleep.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention it last chapter, but this chapter, the one before it, and the one after it are a heavily edited version of the first part of Twist Story I ever wrote, back when I was just starting to explore the idea. That also makes them the first fanfic I ever wrote. The story has changed a lot since then, and so has my writing (hence the heavy editing), but these three chapters are where it all began.

Blackberry startles awake at the sound of a scream. Disoriented, he struggles to rise, only to find his skull trapped in a cage of bones.

“What?” he hisses. “What’s going on?” Trying to pull away only makes the bone cage tighten. A shriek comes from above his skull. Twist!

“Brother?! What’s wrong? What’s happening? Where are you?” Someone's hurting Twist! Blackberry's trapped, and someone’s hurting Twist!

Something sharp digs into his skull. He scrabbles at the bones pressed into his face, but they won’t budge. What kind of attack is this? That’s not how bone cages work! And what skeleton would even try to hurt them?! What's going on?!

The cage shakes as Twist whines. Where is he?! Who’s hurting him?! The bones pressed against his face block his sight – strange bones, curved and closely spaced, not the right shape for a bone attack at all, no color to them except for the glow coming from behind them, strangely warm – oh.

“Oh, my poor brother,” he sighs. “You can’t even have one good night’s sleep, can you?” He cringes as another scream splits the air. Twist’s claws scrape against his skull, but it’s a minor annoyance compared to what his brother must be suffering.

They must have moved around since falling asleep, because Blackberry is very thoroughly stuck. He winces as the heat sharpens against his face. Twist is getting worse. He’s got to do something. The blood that starts trickling down the back of his skull provides yet another reason to get untangled from this mess. No one is going to be happy if Twist does to his skull what he’s done to the mattress. Can he? Is a skull really that much tougher than a mattress? Maybe it’s even less tough. If Twist crushes is his skull, is he just going to have to live with a crushed skull, or would that dust him? It would probably dust him. Surely Twist isn’t strong enough to actually crush his skull. Twist never would have suggested napping in the same bed if he thought he could hurt Blackberry. He can’t. He’s too weak. Blackberry is perfectly safe, even if the stabbing in the back of his skull says otherwise. Okay, okay, calm down. Twist needs him calm. First assess the situation, then figure out what to do. Okay.

The position they’re in is rather awkward – awkward enough that Blackberry appreciates that no one has come to check on them yet. He has one arm and one leg trapped under Twist, the other leg trapped between Twist’s legs – please, please, please be asleep, and _no nightmares _– the other arm has somehow made its way _inside Twist’s ribcage, how in the world?_ And of course, both of Twist’s hands have a death grip on his skull.

Untangling the two of them without Twist’s cooperation is going to be difficult. Maybe he should call for help? Everyone in the whole house has to have heard that last scream. They probably just don’t want to intrude if they’re not wanted. They’d come if they were called.

But what if this does trigger a nightmare? Twist isn’t awake; he can’t be, or he would be trying to get away instead of treating Blackberry like a squishy ball. No one else needs to see the kind of nightmare that could come from Twist being in agony while someone else is wrapped around his body.

Twist screams again, making Blackberry flinch. Enough speculation; his brother needs help. The leg between Twist’s is the easiest to free, as long as he ignores Twist’s shaky whimper at the shift of fabric between his legs. The other leg isn’t too bad, either, except for the way Twist moans and tries to flinch away. There’s nothing to be done about that right now. Just stay calm.

He tries to squirm his skull free next, but no luck. Twist just digs his claws in. “Ow!” He flinches, only to freeze when Twist growls. “Brother?”

“Fuckin’–” Twist’s snarl cuts off with a whine. The claws loosen.

Blackberry tries once again to pull away. He almost expects the pinpricks of pain this time, wincing at the trickles of blood that run down to his occipital bone, wincing again at Twist’s strangled gasp that gurgles into another scream. He’s almost grateful to hear it. Twist in pain is less dangerous than Twist angry, and this position might possibly be just a little bit dangerous. Also, Twist is getting really hot. This is definitely a node attack. Blackberry really needs to move.

Freeing his skull from Twist’s hold without the use of his arms isn’t going to work. Okay, fine, he can work with that. That just means the next step is to get his arm out of Twist’s ribcage, which should be a priority anyway. It’s not actually trapped like the one underneath them, just at a weird angle and too close to his soul, and of course it’s _inside Twist’s ribcage_. That’s really invasive and creepy, but he should probably be used to doing invasive and creepy things to his brother by now. It’s fine. He’ll fix it.

He tries to move carefully, but it’s hard at such a weird angle with someone squishing his skull. Twist cries out again, body convulsing. Blackberry's claws scrape right up against his soul. Twist keens.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry, brother.” Blackberry presses his hand against Twist’s burning ribs in horror, as far from the soul as he can get as Twist tries to squirm away.

“Nonononononono I c’n – c’n fix it I c’n fix it, ‘s not… don’ gotta… I c’n fix it I c’n–”

This is going so badly. Twist isn't just hurt, he's scared. “Shh. Shh, Papy, it’s okay. It’s just Sans. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s okay.”

“Sansss?” Twist chokes and coughs. Blackberry tries to keep his claws away. “Why’re ya–?” Twist screams and shakes again. Blackberry clings to his ribs to keep his hand still. “Wha…? Sssn? Sa-nss why…?”

“We’re kind of tangled up.” Claws dig into Blackberry’s skull again. Blackberry holds in a whimper to keep the freaking out to a minimum. “It’s okay, just, um… can you maybe let go of my skull? That would really help.” Twist’s hands loosen a little, but clench in another wave of agony before Blackberry can take advantage of it.

“S’ry sorry sorry can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”

“Okay, that’s okay, Papy.”

“Ican’tIcan’tIcan’tIcan’tcan’tcan’tcan’tcan’tsorrycan’tsorrysorrysorrysorrys’rys’rys’ry–”

“Shhhh.” Twist goes silent. “You don’t need to do anything. I’ll figure it out. You just–”

Twist chokes back his next scream, which is followed by quiet sobs of “sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry–”

“Why…?” Blackberry takes a deep, shuddering breath, closing his sockets. He knows this behavior. “You’re allowed to scream.” He winces when Twist does scream a moment later, but chooses to take it as a sign that Twist is listening. “And you’re allowed to talk.”

“Sorry dunno what ta say dunno I can’t–”

“But you don’t have to talk!” he hurriedly corrects. “Only if you want to! You don’t have to do anything. Just – I’ll fix this. I will.” He just needs to think, which is kind of hard to do while surrounded by his brother’s agony and terror.

Moving the wrong way hurts Twist, and doesn’t really get them anywhere. Moving the right way is impossible with Twist’s iron grip on his skull. Breaking Twist’s grip also requires moving, which would hurt Twist. Anything he might do to help himself will hurt and scare Twist. He could stay here and wait it out, but Twist’s ribs are really hot. The discomfort would be worth putting up with to avoid hurting Twist, but the heat is probably making Twist worse. Then there’s the constant risk of HP loss, which Blackberry is in no position to fix if it becomes an emergency. There are also the claws digging into the back of his skull, which aren’t exactly safe. Probably too weak to hurt him is not the same as definitely too weak to hurt him.

This would be so much easier with even one free hand. “Can you roll over? You’re on my arm.” Twist tenses, which might be an attempt to comply or might just be from another wave of pain, but either way, he’s no help. “Okay, that’s okay. How about your hands? Can you let go?” The hands on his skull shift, but they don’t go anywhere.

“Dunno – I – hands? Dunno – can’t they won’ can’t even feel ‘em don’ think sorry sorry sorry–”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out. You just…” Just what? Twist can’t even follow simple commands, and asking him to do something he can’t do just freaks him out. This would be so much easier if Blackberry could move.

Or with some help. Blackberry sighs. “I’m being stupid.”

“Na stupid,” Twist growls, then whines.

“Shh. Or, no, don’t shh, or, I mean – just a minute. I’m getting some help.”

“Don’ leave.”

“Definitely not doing that. I am about to yell, though. Please try not to crack my skull.”

Twist whimpers, but carefully splays his claws away from Blackberry’s skull. At least the claws aren’t digging in anymore. It might almost be enough to get away… but no. Too many potential problems. He already knows what he needs to do. Stop putting it off. Twist is hurting more than he needs to be.

Just ask for help. It’s not that hard. Their friends will help. That’s what they do. They said they’d help, so they will. It’ll be fine. “Blue?! Papyrus?!”

Two skeletons come bursting through the door.

***

Papyrus and Blue share a look at the sound of a commotion upstairs. Neither skeleton has slept a wink this night, instead trading off between looking for small tasks around the house and surreptitiously checking in on the two sleeping brothers.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Blue asks, setting down a picture frame that probably didn’t need dusted but has now been dusted anyway.

“OF COURSE!” Papyrus carefully straightens a lampshade. He might have already straightened it, but a little extra tidying up never hurts. “WELL, THEY WERE FINE THREE MINUTES AGO.” Snuggled together very cutely, actually. “BUT MAYBE WE SHOULD CHECK AGAIN, JUST TO BE SURE?”

Blue nods. “Yes, we should do that. Just a quick little peek to make sure everything is still–” a scream rings through the house. They both wince. “–still fine, which it clearly isn’t.”

“OH, DEAR.”

They both dart upstairs, only stopping at the closed door.

“It sounds like Blackberry’s awake,” Blue says in response to the voice that can be heard between screaming. “Do you think he wants our help?”

“I THINK… I actually think I have no idea.” Papyrus lowers his voice so that Blackberry won’t think they’re listening at the door – which is exactly what they’re doing, but never mind that. “He’s been a little bit… touchy, lately.”

“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Not that I’m blaming him! I'd be pretty defensive, too, if my own brother was hurt so badly. Can you make out what he’s saying?”

“NO, IT’S – it’s a little bit difficult to hear over the… well, the screaming.” Papyrus grimaces. They’ve both been trying to respect Twist’s wishes about not making a big deal of his condition, but this is really awful. No one should be standing around wondering if they should help their screaming friend. Especially a screaming friend who normally seems pretty invincible, making the screaming even more upsetting… but it’s none of Papyrus’s business unless Twist wants it to be. Or, apparently, unless Blackberry wants it to be, although it really doesn’t seem like Blackberry’s decision to make… but Twist went along with it, and besides, Blackberry keeps being concerningly intimidating. It’s all very confusing. A glance at Blue confirms that he's similarly conflicted.

Raised voices keep making their way through the door, mostly Twist’s panic and Blackberry’s attempts at reassurance, until finally, when Papyrus has nearly convinced himself that the only sensible thing to do is to open the door, Blackberry calls their names.

“Oh, thank the stars!” Blue exclaims. They nearly trip over each other getting into the room, then pause at the sight before them.

“OH DEAR.” Papyrus tries to gather himself into some form of helpfulness. “HOW DID THIS…?”

“I don’t even know,” Blackberry mumbles miserably, unable to face them due to the grip Twist has on his skull. “Just please help.”

“CERTAINLY!”

It’s quite simple to untangle the two brothers, if one ignores the screaming – which seems to be an unfortunately necessary part of taking care of Twist. Twist doesn’t resist having his hands removed from Blackberry’s skull, even moaning something that might have been “thanks.” Blackberry gets his arm out of Twist’s ribcage on his own, after that, but does require some help with getting his other arm out from underneath him. Lifting Twist’s upper body earns Papyrus quite a bit of profanity and a swipe from bared claws, but the choked “sorry” that follows makes it hard to hold it against him.

“IT’S QUITE ALRIGHT, TWISTED-ME. I KNOW YOU CAN’T HELP IT.”

“Here, let me…” Blackberry frets, scrambling off the bed. “Where are my towels?”

Blue helps Blackberry collect the scattered washcloths while Papyrus inspects the pitcher of water.

“I’M NOT CERTAIN THIS IS ENTIRELY CLEAN.” It’s about as clean as expected after being used to wash a very sweaty skeleton.

“Oh _no,”_ Blackberry moans. “I forgot to replace it. It’s probably not even cold anymore.” He tests the water with one reluctant phalange. “I guess it will have to do. Twist probably won’t care as much as I would, and I don’t want to leave him…” but he clearly isn’t pleased about it.

“DON’T BE SILLY.” Papyrus grabs the pitcher and heads to the door. This particular problem is very solvable, even if nothing else is. “I’LL BE RIGHT BACK WITH MORE. ICE OR NO ICE?”

Blackberry sags with relief, sitting beside Twist on the bed. “Ice, please, if you can get it quickly.”

Papyrus nods. “ONE PITCHER OF ICE WATER, COMING RIGHT UP!”

***

“Would you mind if I took a look at your skull?” Blue asks hesitantly as Papyrus leaves.

Brushing a hand against his newest injury, Blackberry winces. “This really isn’t a good day for my skull, is it? I guess you cou–”

Twist’s gurgling cry cuts him off. Without Blackberry’s skull to squish, he’s started tearing at his ribs. “Oh no no no no, Papy don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself.” He takes Twist’s hands. “I’m afraid my skull will have to wait.”

“Right.” Blue nods. “How else can I help?”

“You can–”

“Fuck_ off,_ ya fuckin’ whore!” Twist snarls, jerking his hands away. Blue backs away in shock.

Blackberry winces, also backing away. “He’s not talking to us, I promise.” To Twist, he murmurs, “Shh, Papy, it’s alright. The only people here are me and Blue. Sans and Blue. Remember Blue? He’s our friend.”

“Sans?” Twist chokes out, squinting at the two Sanses.

“That’s right, I’m Sans. Your Sans. Blackberry. No one’s going to hurt us.”

“Hurts,” Twist whimpers, making Blackberry’s soul clench. Blue lays a reassuring hand on Blackberry’s scapula, which he appreciates but is too focused on his brother to acknowledge.

“I know it hurts, brother. It’s going to end soon. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Can’t!” The shriek pierces the air.

“Can’t what?”

Twist just arches off the bed, jaw clenching hard enough to creak. Then it’s back to clawing at his ribs again. At least he doesn’t object this time when Blackberry stops him.

Papyrus arrives soon after that with a fresh pitcher of water and a full water bottle. “I THOUGHT HE MIGHT BE THIRSTY, AND THE OTHER ONE HAS BEEN SITTING OUT FOR A WHILE.”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Blackberry acknowledges, guiding Twist’s hands down to the bed, where they can hopefully dig into something other than anyone’s bones. He accepts a freshly wet towel from Blue, nodding in appreciation at the icy temperature of the water. Twist gasps at the cold against his ribs, but presses into the towel a moment later, so it must be helping. “He’ll be very thirsty after this passes, so… brother?”

Twist’s eyelight is locked on the water bottle.

“I THINK HE MIGHT BE THIRSTY NOW,” Papyrus suggests.

“Oh dear. Are you thirsty, Papy?” Not that Twist is likely to respond. He probably can’t even understand, and even if he could, how is he supposed to drink anything like this? Once he’s at least a little bit coherent he can have as much water as he wants. Blackberry punctuates his own thoughts with a nod, considering the issue settled. Until Twist flings an arm towards the water bottle, grasping helplessly at the air.

“I’d say that means he’s thirsty,” Blue agrees. “Do you think we can help him drink?”

“I – I don’t know. We managed a little bit once before, but he did choke… not too badly, I guess, and it’s just water, so I guess if he’s thirsty enough to try, it might be worth it… I really don’t know,” Blackberry frets. “I wish he was in his right mind to tell us.”

“I THINK HE’S TELLING US AS CLEARLY AS HE CAN,” Papyrus says, bringing the water closer to the bed.

Twist swipes at it again. “P – please?” he whines, before moaning and clenching his fists against his ribs.

“Yes, I – I guess that’s pretty clear. Alright, um…” Blackberry looks over his brother, flat on his back and gasping for every breath. “Any ideas how?”

“WE SHOULD SIT HIM UP,” Papyrus says decisively.

“He’ll fall over if we prop him up with pillows.”

“HMM, AN EXCELLENT POINT.” Papyrus taps his chin in thought. “AHAH! WHAT IF I SIT BEHIND HIM TO HOLD HIM UP?”

“I don’t know,” Blackberry hedges, “he might not like that…”

Twist reaches again for the water, growling when it has the audacity to be out of reach. The growl turns into a cough. The cough turns into more coughs, until he’s struggling to pull in a single breath even to scream. “Okay, okay!” Blackberry gives in, refusing to cry but not managing to contain his panic. “Forget what I said! Papy needs a drink!”

Twist is coughing too hard to react when Papyrus climbs into bed beside him. Each cough violently shakes his body, which makes keeping him halfway upright rather difficult. Ultimately, they settle on Papyrus scooting Twist forward so he can climb in behind him, cradling him against his own ribs with bent knees on either side to stabilize his lower body. Twist freezes for a moment when he’s first pulled back against Papyrus’s body, but he loses himself to coughing before anyone can figure out if it means anything.

“Shh, brother, shh,” Blackberry soothes as he brings the water near Twist’s clenched teeth in a momentary break in the coughing. The bottle is one with a long straw, so if he can just get it past Twist’s teeth he should be able to drink from it. “I’ve got some water here. Just open your mouth so you can drink it. It will make you feel better.”

Twist whimpers, but obediently opens his mouth. “Very good, brother. I’m just going to put the straw in your mouth so–” Twist’s skull slams back into Papyrus’s scapula, narrowly avoiding his jaw. “Do you not want to drink anymore?”

“I’m not so sure that’s voluntary,” Blue says, pointing to where Twist’s hands are rattling against Papyrus’s knees.

“I guess not.” Blackberry draws in a deep breath. Everyone has to stay calm, especially him. “I guess we wait?” Maybe he should try to sound a little more sure of himself, but he isn’t. Three days of this, and he still has no idea what he’s doing. Hopefully Twist can stop shaking before the coughing comes back.

The coughing doesn’t come back, although Twist’s whimpers sound like his throat has been scraped with sandpaper. His eyelight locks again on the water, so Blackberry tries again to put the straw in his mouth. Twist gags. Blackberry tries to take the straw away, but Twist clenches his teeth to hold it in place.

“S’ry,” Twist chokes out, teeth still clenched around the straw. “‘ll drink it.” He takes the first sip like he’s expecting poison. Then the water hits the mana lines at the back of his mouth, and his sockets widen in shock. After that, it’s only a matter of moments to drain the bottle dry.

Twist gasps to catch his breath as Blackberry pulls the empty bottle away, face still twisted in agony but good eyelight shockingly bright and alert. That's fine, but magic is beading in cracks of the broken socket, which is never a good sign.

“Papy?” Blackberry asks, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “Do you need anything else?”

“Need?” Twist chokes, masking a scream with an indrawn breath. “Nah. ‘s… no more. Can’t no more.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” Blackberry tries to inject as much reassurance into his voice as he can without knowing what’s wrong. “I’m glad you got enough water. Now let’s just–”

“I _know!”_ Twist hisses furiously, startling them all. “Ain’t that stupid.” His hand fumbles behind him, stoping at the top of Papyrus’s pants. He tugs them downward.

Papyrus’s sockets widen. “OH MY. TWISTED-ME, I REALLY DON’T THINK THIS IS THE TIME FOR–”

Twist arches, mouth opening in a silent scream. Papyrus takes the opportunity to remove Twist’s hand from proximity to any particularly delicate areas, but as soon as the pain lets him move, Twist’s other hand tries the same thing.

“TWISTED-ME! I REALLY MUST INSIST YOU STOP THAT.” Papyrus catches Twist’s other hand, then holds them both as far away from him as possible.

“Then what’d’ya – fu-_uck!”_ Twist grinds his skull into Papyrus’s collarbone, nearly sobbing.

“Papyrus, I think now would be a really good time for you to get up!” Blackberry tries so very hard to keep his voice calm, and fails so very badly, because he doesn’t quite know what his brother is trying to do but knows he doesn’t want to be doing it to Papyrus. Oh, stars, this is just what he was trying to avoid by keeping them away!

“I AGREE COMPLETELY!” Papyrus also seems to be trying and failing to stay calm. “DO YOU HAVE ANY SUGGESTIONS OF HOW I MIGHT DO THAT?”

“Here, let’s just–” Blackberry nearly climbs up on the bed to pull Twist off of Papyrus, but visions of Twist doing the same thing to him freeze him in place. Twist wouldn’t ever do such a thing, but Twist also wouldn’t try to stick his hands down Papyrus’s pants if he knew what was going on, so what Twist would or wouldn’t do means nothing.

“The two of us together should be able to get him without too many problems,” Blue offers. Blackberry nods gratefully, but before they can do anything, Twist speaks.

“Not tryna get outta it,” he growls. “Know what I owe ya.”

“What you owe…? Oh, stars.” Blackberry is not going to throw up. Not in front of his friends. Not when Twist needs him.

“YOU DON’T OWE ANYONE ANYTHING, TWISTED-ME, BUT IF YOU INSIST THEN I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE YOU KEEPING YOUR HANDS AWAY FROM MY PANTS AND NOT – _NOT DOING THAT!”_ Papyrus’s voice jumps up an octave.

Blackberry’s gaze is reluctantly drawn to his brother’s hips. It’s drawn there because those hips are grinding against Papyrus’s. His hand slams over his mouth. There will be no throwing up. None.

“IF EITHER OF YOU GET A MOMENT, WOULD YOU MIND MOVING HIM?” Papyrus asks, doing a remarkable job of not freaking out even though he clearly wants to freak out like Blackberry wants to freak out because Twist is – Twist is–

“Yes, of course!” Blue says, tugging on Blackberry’s arm. “Come on.”

With Blue’s calming guidance, the three of them manage to move Twist far enough for Papyrus to get off the bed. Twist protests being moved – “no I c’n don’ gotta I c’n c’n getcha off jus’ gotta dunno wha’s wrong I can _don’t_ don’ gotta I c’n do it I can jus’ lemme was gonna ‘s jus’ not workin’ but don’ gotta jus’ need a second I c’n do it!” but most of the panic in his face melts away when he’s allowed to curl up on the bed with no one touching him. As much as Blackberry wants to comfort his brother, it’s clear to everyone that the best thing for now is to leave him alone.

“WELL! THAT WAS… ENLIGHTENING IN THE MOST HORRIFYING WAY POSSIBLE.” Papyrus shudders.

“I’m so sorry, Papyrus. Both of you.” Blackberry buries his face in his hands, before forcing himself to face them. What was he thinking, calling them in here? How could he ever risk putting them through that?

Papyrus blinks at him in confusion. “SORRY FOR WHAT?”

“What do you mean, sorry for what? My brother tried to – to–” He can’t even talk about it. Pathetic.

“OH. HM. WELL. THAT WAS RATHER DISTURBING. IT’S HARDLY YOUR FAULT, THOUGH. OR HIS.”

“It is! Mine, I mean, not his. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but I knew something like this could happen. I never should have gotten anyone involved.”

“I’m pretty sure we got ourselves involved,” Blue points out.

“Only because I asked you to.”

“WE WERE ABOUT TO BREAK DOWN THE DOOR TO COME CHECK ON YOU. WELL, PERHAPS A LITTLE BIT LESS DRAMATICALLY THAN THAT, BUT STILL.”

“You wouldn’t have felt the need to do that if I’d just handled things better in the first place. Look, will you just let me apologize and then go home where it’s safe? Or at least go back to bed?”

“How would you have handled all that if we’d been in bed?” Blue asks, which is a good point, but also completely irrelevant. “I don’t know. I – I figured it out before; I would have again.”

“Before?” They both look very concerned. They shouldn’t. Blackberry isn’t the one who just had to experience something so terrible. “How many times have you had to deal with something like that?”

“Not too often,” Blackberry snaps, crossing his arms. “Look, I told you my brother has nightmares, and he can’t always tell the difference between what’s real and what isn’t. We’ve figured out how to deal with it.”

“OF COURSE, OF COURSE.” Papyrus nods very earnestly. “IT’S ONLY THAT THAT WAS AWFULLY DIFFICULT FOR ALL THREE OF US TO HANDLE TOGETHER, SO I’D HATE TO THINK OF ONE PERSON HAVING TO DO IT ALL ON THEIR OWN.”

“You shouldn’t have had to deal with it at all,” Blackberry snaps again, before wincing at his own nastiness. There’s absolutely no call for being rude to his friends. They're just trying to help, and look where it got them.

“NEITHER SHOULD YOU. OR TWISTED-ME, FOR THAT MATTER. BUT SINCE IT HAPPENED ANYWAY, I, FOR ONE, AM GLAD THAT NO ONE HAD TO DEAL WITH IT ALONE.”

“But–” Blackberry looks to Blue for support. “It’s not your responsibility,” he whispers miserably. Making things easier for Blackberry should be the very least of anyone’s concerns right now.

“It’s not about it being anyone’s responsibility,” Blue says, being no help at all, while also being much too helpful. Why is this so hard?

Papyrus nods along. “IT’S ABOUT LOOKING OUT FOR OUR FRIENDS. IF ALL THAT TAKES IS PUTTING UP WITH A FEW UNCOMFORTABLE MOMENTS, THEN IT’S MORE THAN WORTH IT.”

“But…” They don’t understand. Why won’t they understand how awful this is, and why they shouldn’t have to be involved?

“It’s okay to ask your friends for help,” Blue says.

“I know that! You both help with all sorts of things. That doesn’t mean you should have to put up with – with _this!”_

“Well neither should you two.”

“‘BERRY, THIS IS TOO MUCH. YOU CAN’T DO THIS BY YOURSELF. NO ONE CAN.”

“It’s not too much! I can take care of Twist. I’m the only one who ever takes care of Twist. Just because I’m awful at it doesn’t mean I can’t do it, and it certainly shouldn’t be your job to make up for everything I ever let happen to my brother because I was too young and weak and _nice_ to do anything about it!”

“Sans?” the pile of rattling bones on the bed croaks, eyelight peeking out over the arms wrapped around Twist’s skull.

“Papy?!” Blackberry gasps in horror. “I’m so sorry. I should have been paying attention to you, not arguing over stupid things that you don’t need to worry about. What do you need?”

“Na’ stupid,” Twist growls. “Helpin’.”

“Not very well.” Being careful not to startle his brother, Blackberry checks the temperature of Twist’s ribs. “Not quite melting, but these are much too hot. Let me put some more ice water on.”

Twist nods as Blackberry re-wets the towels that have, as usual, fallen to the floor.

“Can you uncurl a little bit so I can put these on?”

Twist lets his arms fall to the bed, intertwining his phalanges to give both hands something to grip. He sighs in relief at the cold towels, but can only enjoy it for a moment before another wave of pain makes him clutch at his ribs and moans.

“Here, I’ll just hold onto your hands for you,” Blackberry says, climbing up on the bed beside him.

“Thanks, bro,” Twist forces out through gritted teeth. He looks up at Blackberry, maybe about to say something, when his sockets widen in horror at something behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Blackberry turns to look, not really expecting to see anything there. The only person behind him is Papyrus.

“Hello, Twisted-Me,” Papyrus says as gently as Papyrus ever speaks. “It’s just me. Just Papyrus.”

“I know,” Twist whispers, still looking on in horror.

“YOU – you do?” Papyrus asks in confusion.

“Yeah. Uh – now I know. Now. Not–” Twist whimpers, burying his skull in the sheet beneath him. Blackberry gently turns his face back towards the open air, just in case any more breathing problems occur. Twist doesn’t fight him, just goes back to staring at Papyrus, looking increasingly upset.

“TWISTED-ME?” Papyrus is utterly bewildered, as are Blackberry and Blue. Is Twist scared of Papyrus, now? That seems really unlikely.

“’m sorry,” Twist moans. “Sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. Thought ya – I thought – yer not – mmmMMMM!” Blackberry holds on tight as Twist tries to yank his hands away, not able to do much else to help him through this wave of pain. “Sorry,” Twist finishes on the tiniest whimper of breath.

“I’M NOT SURE WHAT YOU’RE APOLOGIZING FOR – OH! IS THIS BECAUSE OF YOUR UNFORTUNATE LEVEL OF INTEREST IN MY… _PANTS _EARLIER?”

Twist huffs what could almost be a laugh. “Yeah. Pants. ‘s what… pants. Yeah. Sorry.”

“THAT’S QUITE ALRIGHT, TWISTED-ME. I KNOW YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING.”

“Knew yer… tryna stop. Me. Make me stop. Tryna… di’nt listen.”

“I DON’T THINK YOU WERE CAPABLE OF LISTENING TO MUCH OF ANYTHING, AT THE TIME. I’M NOT SURE YOU’RE PARTICULARLY CAPABLE OF LISTENING RIGHT NOW, SO HOW ABOUT WE SAVE THIS CONVERSATION FOR WHEN YOUR SOUL ISN’T TRYING TO MELT?”

“No, ‘cause… upset ya. I… ‘s not…”

“YOU DIDN’T UPSET ME. WELL, I CAN’T SAY I’M PARTICULARLY PLEASED AT THE IMPLICATIONS OF YOU THINKING YOU OWE ME, WELL, PANTS-THINGS, BUT I’M CERTAINLY NOT HOLDING IT AGAINST _YOU.”_

Oh, good, at least Twist’s friendship with Papyrus won’t be ruined by this, as long as Twist can stop holding it against himself– “OR AGAINST _YOU.”_ Papyrus glares sternly at Blackberry.

“Bro?” Twist squints up at Blackberry. “’s not… how?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the question.” He’s gotten pretty good at deciphering half-coherent Twist, but that one’s beyond him.

“mmm… _FUCK!”_ Twist slams his skull into the bed. It’s less destructive than attacking his ribs, so Blackberry lets him.

“Shh, we can talk later,” Blackberry soothes as Twist comes out of the worst of the pain. “Just rest now.”

“No,” Twist growls. “Yer not – how’s’yer fault?”

“Hmm?” Blackberry would be the first to admit that his Twist-deciphering skills aren’t holding up very well to helplessly waiting for his brother’s pain to end.

“The thing with Papyrus’s... pants.” Blue reminds him.

“Ah. That. Yes. Don’t worry about that. I’m sure we’ve all learned our lesson, and I’ll do a much better job of taking care of you in the future so no one else has to get involved, so it won’t be a–”

“No.” Did Twist just use big brother voice on him? How?

“No?” Blackberry will not give in to big brother voice. He’s the one who’s meant to be responsible here, not Twist. Twist barely even knows what’s going on.

“No. Heard me. Wrong lesson.”

“It is not the wrong lesson. If I hadn’t called them in here, then none of this would have happened, so obviously–”

“Squished you.”

“What?”

“Woulda. Squished you.”

“He’s right,” Blue says. “You were getting very squished when we came in here.”

“I’d have figured it out.”

“Maybe, but you didn’t have to.”

“I should have–!”

“No," Twist growls. "What’d I say? ‘bout doin’all yerself?”

Blackberry’s shoulders hunch. “Not to do it. But look what happens when I don’t!”

“WHAT DOES HAPPEN WHEN YOU DON’T?” Papyrus asks, almost managing his own big brother voice, which isn’t fair because he isn’t anyone’s big brother. “I’M FINE, AND YOU AND BLUE ARE FINE, AND TWISTED-ME SEEMS TO BE BECOMING MORE FINE. HE’S TALKING MORE, AT LEAST.”

“Yeah, think ‘m doin’ better. Think it’s–” Twist winces. “Not done, maybe. Maybe mos’ly. I think. ‘cause… ‘m talkin’. C’n… kinda. Makes sense?”

“ONLY A LITTLE BIT, BUT THAT’S ALRIGHT.” Papyrus lightly pats Twist’s skull. Twist smiles at him dazedly. At least it seems genuine, and only a little bit pained.

“So since Twist is getting better, and everyone else is fine, could we maybe _not_ decide from this to never ask for help because it always ends in disaster?” Blue asks. “Because it didn’t.”

“But–!”

“NO BUTS. EVERYTHING IS–”

A hoarse giggle cuts Papyrus off. Everyone looks down at Twist.

“Brother?” Blackberry asks, browbones raised.

“No buts,” Twist explains, laughing harder, and yes, those are definitely giggles. Twist is giggling.

“I’m not sure what’s so funny about–”

“No buts!” Twist insists, barely gathering enough breath to speak. “Ain’t got buts.”

“Okayyy…” The three skeletons who haven’t lost their minds share looks of bewilderment. They should probably be concerned, but Twist sure seems to be enjoying whatever insanity his mind has come up with.

“Get it? No buts.” Twist actually reaches an elbow over to nudge Blackberry’s, which clearly takes a lot of effort. “’cause ‘s just bones!”

“WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH – OH.” Papyrus groans, facepalming.

“Oh?” Blackberry asks. “What oh?” Has Papyrus lost his mind, too? Maybe it's all due to stress?

“BUTTS,” Papyrus sighs. “TWO T’S.”

Twist nods enthusiastically, eyelight swirling in its socket. “Don’ got no butts,” he insists, grinning.

“What? Oh.” Okay, yes, that’s funnier than it should be. Blackberry finds himself grinning. He must be as tired as Twist, who is still _giggling_, of all things. “You’re quite right, brother. There’s not a single butt in the room. What was I thinking?”

“Thinkin’ too much,” Twist states, a hint of that highly unnecessary big brother voice making a reappearance before quickly being swallowed up by giggles.

“What am I going to do with you, brother?”

“Hmm.” Twist manages to stop giggling long enough to look contemplative. “Bedtime?” he suggests.

“Yes, I think both of you should go to bed right this instant,” Blue says, exasperated.

“C’mon, ‘s funny!” Twist insists. “Wait ‘m I arguin’ ‘gist m'wn point?”

“Probably,” Blue agrees. “And not very clearly, either.”

“Oh. ‘m probly right, then.” Twist frowns. “What ‘m I right about?”

“Bedtime. You’ve both reached a level of ridiculous that only comes from true exhaustion.”

“Twist has. I haven’t.” Blackberry insists.

“YOU’RE LAUGHING ABOUT BUTTS.” Papyrus points out, which, yes, he has a point, but that doesn’t mean it’s bedtime. Blackberry has had enough of bedtime.

“I’m really not tired anymore. And I don’t want to leave Twist unsupervised.”

“Wanna be babysitters?” Twist asks, probably directed to Papyrus and Blue, although he says it to his hand, which has apparently become too fascinating to look away from. He needs more sleep.

“You don’t need babysitters,” Blackberry says. “I can keep an eye on you. Oh! Would you two mind keeping an eye on him for just a minute, though, so I can go get some school books? I need to catch up on my reading.”

“OF COURSE! BUT ARE YOU SURE YOU WOULDN’T LIKE US TO WATCH HIM A LITTLE LONGER, SO YOU CAN GET SOME UNINTERRUPTED REST?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to fall behind. I’ll be right back.” Blackberry scurries to his room before they can say anything else about him needing more sleep. Calling for help is one thing, and maybe they’re right that it wasn’t a total disaster, but that’s still different from actually leaving them to watch Twist the whole night. Maybe that’s silly. Everyone seems fine with it except him. They'd probably be fine. Still, he’d just rather be the one keeping an eyelight on Twist for a little bit longer.

Blue insists on patching Blackberry’s skull up before leaving him to read in his armchair. Blackberry had actually forgotten he was injured with everything else going on, but now that he’s reminded, the scrapes do sting rather badly. They're small and easily healed, though, now that Blue can focus.

Blackberry does wish they done the healing somewhere else when Twist’s vaguely wandering eyelight locks onto the injury. “No. Nononono din’t I didn’t. Din’t mean ta. Din’t. Didn’t.”

“I know, Papy, I know. It was an accident."

“’m sorry! Sorry Sans. Sorry. I–”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’m fine. Look, I’m fine.” Blackberry turns around to show Twist his newly healed skull, realizing too late that Blue is frantically shaking his skull.

“NO!” Twist shrieks. “Sorry sorry sorry sorry hurt ya didn’t mean ta didn’t sorry can’t – can’t think right. Gi’way!”

“It’s okay! I’m fine. Blue fixed it.”

“You still have blood on your skull,” Blue sighs.

“Oh. Oh dear. Oh dear. Papy, I’m okay, I promise. It’s just old blood. Here, somebody please get me a towel to clean it off. Please clean it off right now.”

“HERE, LET ME!” Papyrus scrubs Blackberry’s skull until it surely must be clean, but Twist isn’t looking.

“Hurt ya. I… I hurt ya. I hurt Sans. I – ‘m dangerous. See, ‘m dangerous. Should – should lock me up. Don’ wanna, don’ matter. Dangerous.”

“You’re not dangerous. Look, I’m fine!”

“Not? 'm dangerous.”

“No. It was an accident. I forgot all about it until Blue offered to heal me. I’m fine, and everyone is safe.”

“Safe?”

“Yes, safe. See, I’m not even hurt anymore.” He angles his skull so Twist can see.

“Not… yer not hurt?”

“No. You’re the only one who’s hurt, and you’re going to get better.”

“Oh.” Twist rubs the space between his sockets. “Yer sure?”

“Yes. Everyone is–”

“Papyrus!” Twist cries, looking around frantically.

“RIGHT HERE.” Papyrus waves and steps closer.

“I hurt you?”

“NOT AT ALL. EVEN LESS THAN BLACKBERRY.”

“Shouldn’ta done that.”

“YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING AT ALL ON PURPOSE. YOU JUST GOT A LITTLE CONFUSED. A LOT CONFUSED. YOU SEEM TO BE CONFUSED NOW, TOO.”

“Can’t… ‘m not sure what’s happenin’. Somebody’s hurt?”

“NO ONE BUT YOU, AND I THINK YOU’LL FEEL BETTER AFTER YOU GET SOME SLEEP.”

“But… did I hurt somebody?”

“No.” Blackberry states firmly. “No, you did not. No one is hurt, and you didn’t do anything on purpose.”

“But I did somethin’?”

“A FEW SMALL THINGS, BUT NO ONE MINDS.”

“What would make us all feel a lot better right now is for you to go to sleep,” Blue says.

“But I gotta–”

“No butts,” Blackberry says, trying to bring back some of the lightness of a few minutes ago.

“No–?” Twist frowns. Then he snorts. “No skeleton butts. I remember.”

“OR YOU COULD SAY WE HAVE VERY BONEY BUTTS,” Papyrus tries, getting an appreciative grin from Twist.

“Yeah, guess ya could say that, darlin’.” Twist shakes his skull. “Guess I’m not really keepin’ it t'gether very well, am I?”

“As well as can be expected,” Blue says. “You might do better with some more sleep to help you recover, though.”

“Yeah, guess so. Did I jus' lose it fer a second there?"

"ONLY A LITTLE BIT. IT'S PERFECTLY ALRIGHT. I DO THINK IT WOULD BE EVEN MORE ALRIGHT IF YOU WOLD GO TO SLEEP, THOUGH."

‘s probly like puttin’ a baby bones ta bed, the way I just keep talkin’.”

“Maybe a little bit," Blackberry agrees. "Do you think you could sleep now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Where’s everyone gonna be?”

“I’ll be right here reading, and those two are going to go get at least a little bit of sleep,” Blackberry says.

“UNLESS YOU’D LIKE US TO STAY,” Papyrus offers. “BLACKBERRY COULD ALSO USE SOME MORE SLEEP.”

“No,” Blackberry says. “We’ve already decided. I’m reading, you’re sleeping.” He pauses to think about it, then gives in a very little bit. “You can check on us, if you want.”

“Great!” Blue says. “Because we certainly would never check on you without your permission, would we, Papyrus?”

“NEVER! WHY, IT WOULD BE TERRIBLY DUPLICITOUS TO DO SUCH A THING. THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND SENSATIONAL SANS WOULD NEVER!”

“Right.” So apparently they don’t need permission. That’s reasonable, really. Letting people stay over to help and then banishing them downstairs to wait to be called on is the unreasonable thing. They’re really being quite patient and accommodating. “Well, it’s fine. Check on us whenever you want. I’ll just be reading. Unless you mind, Twist?”

Twist doesn’t answer. Unsurprisingly, Twist is asleep.

“We’ll just go now,” Blue whispers. “One of us will bring up some more water. Quietly. And we’ll check on you later. Also quietly.”

“Thank you,” Blackberry says, finding that the thought no longer fills him with quite as much dread. None of what happened earlier was pleasant, but no one is disgusted, or traumatized, or looking for an excuse to run away screaming. They helped, and they’re planning to keep helping.

“You’re very welcome,” Blue says. Papyrus nods and smiles, probably not confident in his ability to keep his voice down now that they know Twist is asleep. They’re being so considerate. So helpful. So nice. How are they such good friends?

Blackberry manages to retain some semblance of dignity as they step out and carefully shut the door. After that, there’s no one but the textbooks to see if a few happy tears drip down past the smile on his face.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last of those first three chapters I wrote all the way back at the end of 2018, the first work of fanfiction I ever wrote. Also heavily edited, for both content and massive improvements in writing ability, but I'm still rather proud of what I came up with way back then.

Twist wakes up to the sun on his face and feeling surprisingly alright – a little burning behind his ribs, but nothing worth caring about. A little burning is a good thing, really. It means the treatment is working. Probably. It’s probably something to ask Iggy about when he goes in for that checkup. They were planning on doing that today, right? He's taken enough damage lately, and there's not much point in putting it off. Just what he wants to do, set himself up to be a lab rat again – but enough of that. It’s not worth thinking about until it gets here.

The sun feels too good to waste time worrying. When’s the last time he’s seen it so bright? Usually, the blinds are closed, these past few days, probably to keep Twist from getting a headache and maybe to keep any nosey neighbors from looking in. Actually, that’s probably a big part of the reason, considering the overprotectiveness of the people who've been taking care of him for the past few days. Someone must have opened it today, though, letting in a refreshing view of the outside world.

Twist could really get used to waking up like this. Barely anything hurts, and he knows enough to know he’s in his bedroom on the surface. Getting up is still beyond him, but that’s a small price to pay for what he’s getting out of it.

“No more LV,” he whispers to himself, smiling. What will it be like? He imagines something like this sunlight falling on his bones, the sheer lightness and life that radiates from someone like Papyrus or Blue. All of that weight, gone. All of the dust that’s worked its way into his bones, all of that rage simmering just beneath the surface, pushing him to just – nope. Enough of that shit. That could go bad too fast. He’s never been one to brood on the worst parts of life, and he’s not going to start on this nice, sunlit morning.

Back to the blinds. That's a much safer thing to think about. Who opened them, anyway? Probably not Blackberry – he worries too much, and besides, he’s fast asleep in the chair by the bed. Then who…?

“Musta been Blue and Papyrus.” They were going to check up on them through the night. Except Blackberry wouldn’t like that, would he? Especially not if they’re going around opening windows without permission. “He’s gonna kick ‘em out, at this rate.” Twist grumbles. It’s not like Twist can do anything to stop him. Twist can’t do anything but lie around having other people take care of his stupid, worthless ass – NOPE. Cut that shit out. It’s a good morning. He feels good. Things are good.

Okay, so, Blue and Papyrus. They want to help. Tried to help, actually, didn’t they? Last night? When Twist… fuck, when Twist tried to break his little brother’s skull. Fuck. But they helped, and Blackberry's fine. Blue fixed it. So yes, they helped. It's fine. They fixed it. Blackberry's safe.

Everyone sure is going above and beyond in the friend department, lately. Twist already knew they were good friends, definitely the kind of people a fellow could rely on to look out for his brother and put up with a reasonable amount of his own bullshit, even if some of them are a little naive. They can’t help that. It’s actually a good thing about them. Still, this is all a lot to ask from someone like that, especially when –

“Shit.”

Oh shit oh shit oh shit. He did _not_ try to grab Papyrus’s dick. He did not. Please let that just be some stupid bullshit made up by his fucked up mind. But it's not. He knows perfectly well it's not. He did that. Why did he do that? Not that he’d mind having some fun with Papyrus in other circumstances, assuming Papyrus was up for it, and _without Blackberry watching,_ but that was just completely fucked up. Why did he even–?

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he mutters. He’s done some fucked up shit, yeah, but with _Papyrus?!_ And not so much _with_ Papyrus as _to_ Papyrus, because Papyrus was obviously not on board with whatever the fuck that was, which Twist would have seen if he’d bothered to step outside his own skull for one _fucking_ second.

Did Papyrus actually stick around after all that? As far as Twist can recall, yes. Holy fucking stars, yes, he did. Fuck. Why? Why put up with Twist for one single second after seeing what a worthless mother fucking piece of shit he turns into when he lets his guard down for one fucking second - stop. Stop that shit. Even Twist can tell that Papyrus wouldn't approve of that reaction. None of the skeletons would.

Papyrus isn’t here. Fixing whatever ways Twist has fucked up that friendship <strike>(Fix it how, exactly? By explaining why he did it? Like there’s any way to explain it that isn’t going to upset Papyrus more?)</strike> is going to have to wait. Freaking out about it won’t make it any better. It might get Papyrus back in the room, but making him deal with more of Twist’s bullshit isn’t going to solve anything. Besides, Papyrus wasn’t mad. He insisted he wasn’t mad, if Twist understood any part of that conversation, which he thinks he did. Papyrus tried to make Twist feel better. Shit, all that, and he tried to make Twist feel better. People keep doing that. Twist hurts them, scares them, upsets them with whatever bullshit thing bleeds out of his fucking skull next, and they just try to make him feel better. Twist doesn’t deserve them. He fucks up, makes things hard for them, and all they do is try to make things better for him.

Papyrus might even be the one who let all of this sunlight in. It’s warm on Twist’s bones, soothing away aches that have become so constant that he barely even notices them anymore. Someone did that for Twist, just because they thought he could use a little sunlight. Maybe they remembered how much he wanted outside last night. Fuck. How’d he end up being cared about by so many people who are too good for this world? <strike>Or maybe they’re not too good for _this_ world. Maybe _this_ world is too good for _Twist_. Maybe he’s the one who doesn’t fit. Maybe it’s best that–</strike>

Oh fuck off. Whoever opened that window meant for Twist to enjoy the sunlight. He shouldn’t disappoint them by obsessing over things he can’t do anything about. That’s never gotten him anywhere. He knows that. There are always plenty of things to be upset about, but it’s never worth wasting time worrying about them. Never. Life’s too short. But how does he usually avoid it?

Distractions! That’s it. Distractions are the key to avoiding a lot of shitty situations, especially the ones that mostly only exist inside his own skull. He needs a distraction. What to do, what to do… hey, there's Sans! Blackberry. Stay in the present. No going back to – Nope! Distraction, _now._ Hmm…

Blackberry must have been reading before he fell asleep. There’s a book in his lap, a few more piled on the floor beside him – school books, it looks like. Why culinary school requires so much reading is beyond Twist. Blackberry says it’s just for a few classes, and then everything will get much more practical, and anyway it’s interesting reading so he doesn’t mind. It obviously wasn’t interesting enough to keep him awake, though.

He looks uncomfortable. Why is he sleeping in the chair when there’s a perfectly good bed right next to him? Silly Sans. Oh, well, that’s easy enough to fix. The chair isn’t even that far away. Twist has carried Blackberry to bed from harder places than that. Of course, that’s usually when he can get out of bed, himself, but he can still do it. It’ll just require some improvising. <strike>Just the distraction he needs from</strike> – just taking care of his little brother!

Twist reaches for Blackberry, hoping to grab a shoulder, an arm, something to tug him over to a better place to sleep. He manages to grab the edge of the bed. Okay, so maybe his depth perception’s a little off. That’s fine. He’s used to it now. He’ll figure it out.

Okay, so the goal is to get Blackberry out of that uncomfortable chair. Pulling him onto the bed from Twist’s current location isn’t working, because Twist can’t reach. Also, people probably don’t tend to sleep through being dragged across furniture. Maybe the fact that that just occurred to him is a sign that Twist isn’t as up for this challenge as he thought, but whatever.

So, new plan. Putting Blackberry to bed should be easier once Twist is out of bed. Step one, get out of bed. Step one, part… A? Is that how organized plans work? Whatever. Step one, part A, is getting to the edge of the bed.

Step 1A is easier said than done. Grabbing the edge of the mattress to pull himself over is useless. The mattress lifts a little bit, but Twist doesn’t move. Still, it’s not the worst sign. Mattresses are heavier than skeletons. If he can move the mattress, then he can move himself, right?

Maybe it’s a center of gravity problem. He’s dealt with those before – most recently, trying to move himself across this same bed. Although, didn't that end in him falling out of bed? Whatever, he can work with that. Back to the plan. The way he’s lying right now puts most of his weight on his spine, which is pressing into the bed. There's no way he can lift his own weight from this position, so to move he’d have to drag himself a couple of feet. That already didn’t work. He’s not strong enough to do a crab crawl, so that won’t work. The obvious solution is to roll over. Great, that’s plan… 2? No, 1B. Or, 1A part… B? Fuck it. Just roll over.

He lifts one leg slightly over the other. That much movement is doable. His hips follow, shifting his center of gravity just like he planned. “See, I c'n plan.” With one more little push, he rolls – and lands face down on the edge of the bed.

“Fuck.” Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? “Shit, can’t breathe. Can’t… fuck. Ow.” It doesn’t help that his arm is stuck under his ribs, pressing on a whole lot of cracks that have chosen now to remind him that they aren’t actually healed. Then the burning starts.

“Not. Fucking. _Now,”_ he growls, as if his body is going to listen to a single thing he says. His breathing quickens as the burning grows worse. The pressure on his ribcage won’t let in enough air, which is probably at least half of how he manages not to scream as the pain spikes. “Don’ wake ‘im up.” Maybe this one will be over fast. Maybe he can handle it himself. He needs to handle it himself so Blackberry can have a break.

“Don’ wake Sans don’ wake Sans don’ wake San_nnnsssss_,” he moans through gritted teeth. The pain comes in sharp spikes, each one threatening to knock him off his precarious perch. Why the fuck did he think he could do this? Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck_, does he know any fucking words other than fuck?! _FUCK_. He thrashes as another spike whites out his mind. When he can see again, he’s on the floor. Fuck.

***

A jolt and a crash tears Blackberry out of a lovely dream. Reality sets in as the chair he’s in tips backwards. Saving himself from yet another undignified head injury through a barely more dignified leap from the falling chair, he surveys the room for the cause of this latest mishap – only to find his brother thrashing on the floor.

“Brother!” he shrieks in horror.

Twist is tangled up in a blanket, but nothing is cushioning his skull from slamming repeatedly into the floor. Shoving a pillow under Twist’s skull, he’s met with one desperate eyelight.

“Brother? Are you…?” He doesn’t even know what to ask, other than why is Twist on the floor. That one’s probably a little hard to answer right now.

“Ssssa… mmm…. sssnnnn,” Twist trails off in a whimper. “Ssssorry… tried let… tried sleep let… no… tried let… grrr.” Twist’s snarl of pain is briefly obscured by a very impressive irritated scowl.

“You tried to let me sleep?” Blackberry sighs.

“Mmm. Tried ta-ah…” the words trail off into choked sobs. Blackberry gently strokes Twist’s skull.

“Shh. Shhh, it’s okay. I’d rather be awake, anyway, I promise. Just let me take care of you.”

“S’ry. Sorry. Sorry Sans. Sorry ahhh sorry sorry. Sorry.”

“Shh. Just breathe. This will pass. It’ll be over soon, and then we can talk. Right now I just want you to breathe.”

“Breathe,” Twist gasps. “Okay. I… breathe… help? I can’t.”

“You need help breathing?” Twist nods. “How am I supposed to help you breathe?” Twist frantically shakes his skull. Blackberry thinks for a moment, then brings one of Twist’s hands to his own ribs. “Here, breathe with me. Feel my ribs moving? Just follow what I do. Breathe in,” he inhales deeply, “and out,” he exhales just as deeply. “In… and.. out. You do it with me.” Twist tries to follow along – not very well at first, but slowly his breathing lines up with his brother’s. They stay like that for a few more minutes, Twist’s eyelight locked on Blackberry’s and his claws curled into Blackberry’s shirt, until finally the pain subsides.

“Thanks, bro,” Twist pants, releasing Blackberry's shirt. “Better now. That one,” he winces as an aftershock runs through him, “that one wasn’t too bad.”

“It looked pretty bad to me,” Blackberry says, grabbing the water off the nightstand.

“Nah, maybe fer a minute, but I… but I…” Twist swallows a gasp as his claws dig into his hands. “Nononononono,” he whines.

“Oh, dear. Shh, Papy, just stay with me. I’m right here. It’ll be over soon,” not that Blackberry actually knows that, but surely the fact that Twist thought he was getting better means something. “Don’t scratch up your hands. Here, you can squeeze mine.” He pulls Twist’s claws from where they were digging into his joints and begins gently rubbing the irritated bones. Twist sighs and presses into the sensation until the pain fades.

“Okay, tha’s better,” he rasps. “Think ‘m actually better this time.” He even manages a weakly reassuring grin.

“Are you sure?” Blackberry asks, offering some water.

“Sure ‘s I c’n be,” Twist mumbles around the nozzle in his mouth.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore?”

Twist shakes his skull, but Blackberry is skeptical. “Really? Not at all?”

“Nah. ‘least no more ‘n ya’d expect from fallin’ outa bed onta a chair leg,” Twist chuckles, releasing the bottle's nozzle. Well, if he’s laughing, that… doesn’t actually mean he’s doing alright, realistically, but he doesn’t sound like he’s falling apart. Blackberry will take it.

“How did you manage that, anyway? Last time I saw you, you were safely in the middle of the bed.” He’d better not have tried to get out of bed again.

“Though ya looked uncomfortable in that chair, little bro. Wanted ta get ya in bed so you could sleep better. Had a plan an’ everythin’!” Twist tries to grin disarmingly. It works better than it should.

“And how, exactly, did you plan to get me in the bed?” He shouldn’t scold Twist for bad decisions right now. He really shouldn’t.

“Not sure it’s exactly the kinda plan I c’n explain, ya know? Was kinda makin’ it up as I went along.”

“Then how is that a plan?”

“It was a plan! Kinda. Had numbers ‘n letters ‘n everythin’.”

“Right,” Blackberry sighs. “And did it ever occur to you to maybe just wake me up and ask if I wanted in the bed?” His brother is sick. And hurt. And confused. There is absolutely no point in getting upset that he won’t stay in bed. It hasn’t worked before, and it's not going to work now.

“Nope. Tried that before. Never worked.” Now Twist is looking at Blackberry like he’s the one being ridiculous, which, yes, he has a point. But still, just because Blackberry has a recent track record of being a little bit wrong doesn’t mean Twist is right. “And ya need more sleep.” Also apparently true, since he fell asleep reading, but also still missing the point.

“Mhm. So you fell out of bed while trying to climb out of bed in hopes of somehow getting me into the bed without waking me up."

“Yep.”

“And then, when it was clear that wasn’t going to work, you, what, tried to be very quiet while your soul was melting so I could stay asleep?” Twist nods. “Did this happen before or after you fell out of bed?”

“Uh… before. An’ after. An’ probly during, but I don’ really remember that part.”

Blackberry sighs again. He’s doing that a lot. “Because of course I’d much rather be asleep while you’re convulsing on the floor than wake up for a few minutes to help you or keep you from falling out of bed in the first place.”

Twist finally looks slightly sheepish. “… Right. Can we maybe jus' chalk this one up ta my non-existent brain meltin’ outta my various skull-holes?”

Great, now Blackberry is torn between wanting glare and wanting to giggle. Twist always does this to him. He settles on some ridiculous mix of both. “Oh, fine, I won’t hold it against you.” Like he could ever hold anything against his brother. “Just try to tell me next time you want me to do something instead of trying to do it yourself?”

“Sure, bro, long as ya actually do it instead ‘a decidin’ ya gotta make things as hard as possible fer yerself ta take better care ‘a me.”

“Yes, yes, we’ve talked about that.”

“Sure, ‘bout as often as we talked about me stayin’ in bed.”

“Which you’re terrible at doing.”

Twist shrugs. “Can’t deny that. I’ll try not ta end up on the floor so often.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask. Now let’s get you back in bed.”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“I’m not sure yet. Do you think you could climb back in if I helped a lot?”

Twist looks doubtful. “How much is ‘a lot’?”

“Probably mostly me picking you up and you trying not to let me trip over you.”

“Oh. Then sure, bro, I can try not ta get tripped over.” Twist raises his arms like he expects to be picked up like a babybones. They quickly fall to the floor, the impact making him wince. “Guess that’s about all I c’n do, though.”

“That’s alright. That looks like a good way for me to overbalance and fall on top of you, anyway. Let’s get you sitting up, first.”

Twist readily agrees, but hisses as soon as his shoulders leave the ground.

“Does that hurt?” Blackberry asks, laying him back down carefully.

“Yeah,” Twist gasps. “Don’ think… don’ think I wanna sit up.”

“Oh, dear. I guess I could try it with you laying down.” That seems like a good way to run Twist’s pelvis and feet right into the bed, though. There are times when being short is very inconvenient. “I wish I could use blue magic on you.” Not that anyone has said anything specifically against blue magic, as far as Blackberry can recall. Maybe it’s safe, and they keep putting all this strain on Twist’s joints for nothing.

Twist winces. “Wish ya wouldn’t. Don’ think it’d go too well.”

Blackberry shakes his skull definitively, remembering the last time Twist worried how he would react to magic. Blackberry ignored him once. Never again. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I promise.” He tries not to feel hurt by the immense relief that washes over Twist’s expression. Twist has every reason to worry about Blackberry not listening to him. It’s up to Blackberry to prove those worries unfounded.

“We still need to get you off the floor, though. I’m just not sure how to move you without hurting you, if your joints are too sensitive to let me help you sit up.” It would be nice if those sensitive joints would keep him from getting out of bed in the first place, but expecting Twist to listen to his body when it’s telling him to stay out of trouble might be asking too much. “Oh! What about Papyrus? He’s much taller than me, so it should be easier for him to carry you.” Blackberry feels quite proud of his idea, considering it evidence of his improved ability to trust their friends, so it’s rather off-putting when Twist waves off the suggestion.

“Nah, bro, don’ bother him with this.”

“What? Oh no you don’t. You’ve just spent days trying to convince me to let people help, and now you’re going to worry about bothering them?”

Twist looks very uncomfortable all of the sudden. “Yeah, bro, I… I get what yer sayin’, but… I jus’ don’ think we should bother him. With this.”

“What in the world…? Brother, what are you talking about? Do you suddenly think Papyrus won’t want to help? He’s been trying to find ways to help the whole time he and Blue have been here. They both have. Honestly, I suspect I’ve been fairly rude, sending them away so often.” He really is going to have some making up to do with his friends after all this is over. He’s been kind of awful to them.

Twist shakes his skull. “That’s not it. ‘s just… last time he helped, I was kinda a dick about it. An’ he’d kinda almost be doin’ the same thing as last time, too.”

“What? When were you a – I really do wish you would put at least a little effort into controlling your language, but I suppose that’s beside the point – but when did you treat Papyrus badly?” Twist has been nothing but appreciative to everyone who’s helped him, even apologizing for things everyone knows he has no control over. Blackberry is the one who keeps – wait. No. “You'd better not be blaming yourself for the water thing,” he warns.

“What water thing?” Twist asks, looking genuinely confused. Is that not what this is about?

“You know, the water thing. When Papyrus helped you drink during a node attack, and afterwards you got really confused and tried to – well, stick your hands down his pants?” Among other things that Blackberry cringes to think about. He’s going to have to get over it, though, because the whole topic is much too horrifyingly relevant to Twist’s current problems. Twist doesn’t need his awkwardness, or his _disgust._ He’ll think it’s meant for him. Especially since Twist is already looking rather disgusted, himself, and there’s only one person it’s likely to be directed at.

“’s that what that was all about?” Twist asks darkly. “Somebody gave me some water?”

“Yes. Umm…” Blackberry is going to regret asking this. “What did you think it was all about?”

Twist’s hollow sockets drift over Blackberry's shoulder. Right when Blackberry has given up on getting an answer, Twist snorts in dark amusement. “Not that.”

“Do you want to…?” For all the horror that has been shoved in his face these past few days, there are still so many things Blackberry doesn’t know about his brother’s past. He wants to know as much as he doesn’t want to know, and he very much wants Twist to feel safe enough to tell him, but at the same time, he doesn’t know if he can handle what he’ll hear. He hasn’t done very well so far.

“No.” The answer is clearly final. “Now, about me bein’ stuck on the floor,” Twist continues in a lighter tone. At times like these, Blackberry desperately wishes he knew more about psychology, if only so he could know whether it’s healthy to go along with subject changes like this, but Twist is right about being stuck on the floor being a more immediate concern. It’s at least the problem with the highest chance of finding a solution.

“Well, if you won’t let Papyrus help,” Twist shakes his skull, “then I’m your only option. I’ll try to be very careful.”

Twist cringes, clearly not appreciating the prospect. “Stayin’ down here’s fine, too.”

Blackberry rolls his eyelights. “No. You are not staying on the floor.”

“Why not? Got a pillow an’ everthin’.” Twist pats his pillow. “Jus’ help me with the blanket an’ I’ll be all set!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Although it is pretty reassuring to hear Twist being ridiculous. He can’t be too upset if he’s being this silly. “The last thing you need is to spend the day on a hard, cold floor. Don’t you have an appointment with Iggy today, anyway? Or maybe not an appointment, but you were still planning to go, weren't you?” Blackberry, for one, intends to be at his best while dealing with Iggy, and he assumes that Twist would like to do the same.

“Yeah, yeah, but Iggy’s gonna do what she’s gonna do.” Apparently not. “C’mon, bro. ‘s better down here, anyway. Can’t fall outta bed if I’m not in it ta begin with.” Twist nods to confirm his own logic, what little of it there is. Silly Twist. But no.

“Absolutely not. What kind of brother would I be if I just left you on the floor?”

“The kind that don’t fold his bro up like a pretzel when his bones ‘er on fire?” Twist snarls. Oh. Oh, that wasn’t a joke. Twist isn’t just being silly. He’s really hurting, and Blackberry is being too pushy again, telling him what he can and can’t do like Blackberry has all the answers. Tears prick at Blackberry’s sockets. Why does he keep doing this?

Of course, Blackberry crying makes Twist panic. “No! Shit, bro, no, I didn’t mean that! That’s not what I meant!”

“It’s alright,” Blackberry sniffs, hating himself for doing it. This isn’t about his pitiful feelings of inadequacy. “You’re right to be mad that I keep telling you what to do.”

“Yer just tryin’ ta help. I don’ blame ya fer that.”

“Oh, sure, I’m being lots of help.”

“Hey, cut that shit out,” Twist scolds. “Yer bein’ plenty of help, and you know it. And yer right, I need ta get back in bed. I’m just bein’ kinda grumpy about it. Sorry.”

Blackberry wipes the tears away. “No, brother, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. You can be grumpy if you want. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you’re feeling so terrible. And I shouldn’t keep telling you what to do.”

Twist waves him off. “Nah, it’s fine. ‘m not even feelin’ that bad.”

“Yes you are.”

Twist shrugs. “Okay, so maybe I am. Still can’t stay on the floor all day.”

“No, you really can’t. You’re stiff enough as it is. But I really don’t know how to get you back in bed without hurting you.”

“Maybe jus’ gimme a minute?” Twist asks. “Think I’ll be better if we can wait a little.”

“I guess a few minutes on the floor isn’t going to kill you,” Blackberry concedes.

“Really won’t. Help me with the blanket an’ it’ll even be comfy.” Twist grins.

Blackberry sighs. “Okay, fine. But I’m not leaving you down here alone.”

“Wouldn’t ask ya to, bro. Bring down some more pillows an’ we c’n make it like a little nest.”

“But what if…” Twist’s happy face starts to fall. “Never mind. I’ll get the pillows.” If Twist wants a little nest, he’s getting a little nest. It should be fine with Blackberry awake. Besides, it’s morning. Before long, Papyrus and Blue will probably be checking if they want breakfast, and then they can all work on getting ready for Twist’s appointment. It shouldn’t hurt to spend a few minutes bundled up on the floor.

They settle comfortably in a pile of blankets and pillows, Blackberry pulling his fallen textbook out from under the chair while Twist settles his skull against his arm.

“What’cha readin’, little bro?” Twist asks, peering at the book. “Somethin' fer school?”

“Yes. I’ve maybe gotten just a little bit behind,” Blackberry admits.

“How behind is a little bit?”

“Not much. I just haven’t felt much like doing school work, lately.”

“Uh huh. An’ how often have ya not been feelin’ like doin’ school work since this whole thing started?”

“Not that often!” Blackberry protests. “Everything’s still going to get done by the time it’s due. I’m just a little distracted.”

“Distracted, huh? Guess that’s un'erstandable.” Twist nudges the arm holding the book with his skull, kind of like a cat, which is adorable. How is his brother so adorable? “Jus’ don’ go fallin’ behind ‘cause a me. I expect ta see ya graduate…” Twist looks wistful, but then brightens. “An’ then I expect ta see ya open some fancy bakery or have yer own cookin’ show or… whatever ya do with a degree from cookin’ school!”

“Culinary school,” Blackberry gently corrects.

“Right, that. So if I’m gonna see all that happen, _which I am,_ then you gotta get yer readin’ done. So get ta readin’!”

“I am, _I am,”_ Blackberry giggles, restarting the page when he realizes he has no idea what he just read.

“Hmm, I dunno,” Twist says, wiggling his skull between Blackberry’s arms to peer at the page. “You sure yer actually readin’? Looks ta me like yer too distracted ta read.”

“Whyever might that be?” Blackberry quips, pushing Twist’s skull back down onto a pillow. Honestly. The cat comparison is getting more convincing by the second.

“No idea.” Twist snuggles closer, but fortunately chooses not to block Blackberry’s view of the page he keeps telling him to read. He must be feeling better, to be moving around this much. “Hey, how ‘bout ya read it ta me?”

“What, my textbook?” It doesn’t really seem like the kind of thing Twist would be interested in.

“Yep. I wanna know what yer learnin’ about. Plus, I’m bored.”

“Well, if you really want me to…”

“Yeah. I miss books.” Why…? Oh, because he can’t see well enough to read. That’s a disturbing reminder. “Of course I’ll read to you, Papy.” So Blackberry does just that.

Eventually Twist’s magic stabilizes enough to tolerate being lifted back into bed. It’s really more of a boost than a lift, and it ends in a rather undignified and clearly painful flop onto the bed, but beyond a few sharp gasps, Twist doesn’t seem to mind. He just rolls onto his side and pats the space beside him.

“Come read more.”

“I should probably actually start working on getting ready for the day. I’m sure there’s a lot that needs done before your lab visit.” But even as he speaks, Blackberry is transferring their nest of blankets up to the bed. Once it’s all set up, well, it’s not exactly safe to leave Twist alone with so many blankets, is it? He could get stuck. He could suffocate. “Oh, fine,” Blackberry huffs. Twist smiles.

That smile morphs into a worried frown, though, once Blackberry climbs in next to him. “Uh, bro?”

“Yes?” Blackberry follows Twist’s gaze down to his hands, which are clenching and unclenching.

“Maybe not so close?” Twist curls his hands up in a sheet.

“Huh? What do you mean? I thought you wanted me to come up here and read.”

“Yeah,” Twist sighs. “Stupid, huh?”

“Umm, no? Why would that be stupid? Unless you don’t want me to read to you anymore.”

“No, ‘s not that. ‘s just…” Twist shudders. “Don’ wanna hurt ya, bro.”

“Well, good thing you wouldn’t, then.”

“I did, though.” Twist reaches for Blackberry’s skull, but lets his hand fall before it gets there.

“Oh, that." Blackberry brushes a hand over the back of his skull. It's smooth and clean, like nothing ever happened. "Don’t worry, I’m fine. We talked about it yesterday, remember?”

“What if I do it again?”

“I don’t think you will. For one thing, it would be a lot harder to do now that I’m awake.”

“But what if–?”

“What if what? You’re not exactly moving fast.”

“Sometimes I do.”

“But usually you don’t. Look, do you want me to leave?”

“No, but I don’ wanna hurt ya, either. Hey!” Twist brightens.

“Yes?” Blackberry almost dreads to hear this apparently very exciting idea.

“How ‘bout…” Twist squirms around until his hands are trapped underneath him. It looks very uncomfortable.

“How about not.” Blackberry pulls both arms out in the open.

Twist pouts. “Then what’re we gonna do?” Twist pouting just looks silly. Blackberry wants to tease him, but there’s a good chance that there’s real worry beneath the pouting, so it’s probably a bad idea.

“Hmm.” Blackberry thinks for a moment. “How about this instead.” He lays both of Twist’s arms down straight along his sides, and then tucks a blanket around him, completely covering his arms. “Is that too tight?” he asks.

Twist shifts under the blanket, then smiles. “Nah, ‘s perfect, bro. I might be able ta get out, though.”

“But not before I noticed, so it’s nothing to worry about. We don't want to actually trap you, just slow you down.”

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Twist settles down to be read to.

“I still can’t believe you thought could could move me over to the bed by yourself,” Blackberry giggles in a break between sections. “How was that ever supposed to work?”

“No clue,” Twist chuckles, voice hoarse in a way that suggests sleepiness, not pain.

“Really, you have to start thinking things through before you do them.”

“Yeah, probably should,” Twist agrees, yawning.

“Even trying could have been dangerous, you know, and for what? It’s not like you could actually move me.”

“Yeah,” Twist agrees. “I did, though.”

“Did what?” Surely he’s not claiming that he did think think things through.

“Did move ya.”

“You did not.” That’s even more ridiculous than claiming that he thought things through.

“Did too.”

“Really. Explain that one to me. Because as I recall, you fell on the floor, and then _I_ had to move _you_.”

“Right, but you moved too.”

“Well, yes, there obviously wasn’t much I could do from the chair that you knocked over, so I had to move.”

“So ya moved ‘cause a me.”

“Yes, but–”

“And then ya put me in bed.”

“Yes, but what’s your point?”

“And then ya joined me in bed, ta read ta me.”

“Well, yes, because you asked me to, and because I’m not sure I trust you around a pile of blankets.”

“Right, so ya got in bed ‘cause a me.”

“Of course it was because of you. Papy, what are you–”

“Gotcha outta the chair. Gotcha inta bed. Moved ya from the chair ta the bed. My plan worked.”

“It – that’s not a plan!” Blackberry sputters.

“Looks like a plan ta me.”

“That’s because you’re terrible at plans. Do you actually even know what a plan is? I’m becoming less and less convinced.”

“Sure I do. I make plans. Made one first thing this mornin’. And it worked.”

“It did not work. You just–”

“Just took a little improvisin', which is what I’m best at. So, my plan worked.”

“You–!” How many times has he told himself not to encourage this kind of thing? Twist can’t just go through life flying by the seat of his pants, and hoping to bull his way through whatever problems he causes himself. Except that actually… he’s right; it really is what he’s best at. Really, incredibly good at – possibly just through sheer stubbornness. Of course, without Blackberry’s help, he would have just been stuck on the floor for hours – which, actually, is what he did yesterday, and he managed to get them both through it and get help. Maybe the lesson to be taken from that is to help Twist’s plans work better, not try to ban him from doing ridiculous things in the first place.

“It still wasn’t a good idea.” Blackberry _does_ have to insist on that, because it really wasn’t.

“Yep. Terrible idea. Still worked.” Because that’s Twist, isn’t it? He’ll do what he thinks he needs to do, even if it’s a terrible idea, even if he has no idea what he’s doing – and surprisingly often, he’ll somehow make it work. Often with more damage to himself than Blackberry really considers acceptable – but then, maybe that part is where Blackberry should be putting his effort. Not in a constant battle to keep his brother from making bad decisions, but just in an effort to get him to consider his own wellbeing in the decisions he does make.

“Well, as long as you realize that,” Blackberry huffs, making no effort to conceal the fondness behind his exasperation. Whatever he might think of some of Twist’s decisions, his brother should never doubt for a moment that he’s loved.

“Yeah, yeah, little bro, I got it. Now, how we get back ta learnin’ ‘bout… caramelization rates? Did I say that right?”

“You did, although that’s not really what this chapter is about, just a small part of it. What it’s really about is…” Blackberry proceeds to explain the overarching theme of the chapter to Twist, following by an overview of how everything they read so far fits into that topic. Explaining it in a way that might make sense to Twist turns out to be an excellent study method – still not likely to teach Twist anything about cooking, but very helpful for getting ready for the exam that’s going to happen next week whether Blackberry is ready or not. Twist dozes off eventually, so Blackberry keeps reading quietly to himself while his brother sleeps. They stay like that until Blue pokes his skull through the door to tell them breakfast is ready.


	45. Chapter 45

Cash blinks awake to the bright light of late morning and the confusing weight of someone leaning against his ribs. “what the fuck?”

“morning,” Slim mumbles, shifting into a more comfortable position – which seems to involve nuzzling his face into Cash’s shirt. Heat spreads along Cash’s cheekbone. Fuck.

“slim?” Again, what the fuck? Why is he in bed with Slim? Or, not in bed – eyelight finally adjusting to the brightness, Cash examines his surroundings. “why are we sleeping in my living room?”

Slim shrugs, then gestures to the tv, which is playing some stupid show that Cash has never watched and doesn’t care to watch now. What does that have to do with…? Oh, right.

They watched some movies together last night, at Cash’s place, because Slim was too worried about Twist to want to go home by himself. Also because Cash has a better tv, but even Cash could see that Slim didn’t want to go home alone. So, of course, Cash had to let him come over, which had nothing to do with Cash also not wanting to spend the night worrying about Twist by himself, because that would just be pathetic. Keeping Slim company was a perfectly good <strike>distraction</strike> / <strike>way to not be alone</strike> / <strike>only decent thing to do when</strike> \- oh, fuck it. Cash didn't want to be alone, either, okay? Sue him. He has better lawyers.

They must have fallen asleep during one of the movies. “what time is it?” Cash grumbles, sitting up to check for himself. It’s nearly 9:30. In the morning. “ugh.” He flops back down against the arm of the couch. Slim flops down with him, not bothering to get off of Cash’s ribs. “no reason to be awake this early.” Cash _can_ get up early if he has to, unlike those other lazy asses who whine every time they have to do anything before the crack of noon, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

“i wonder if twist is awake?” Slim asks, snuggling further into Cash's shirt.

“probably. did you know that asshole wakes up before sunrise to go running every day? probably not today, but… wait. fuck.”

“what?” Slim asks, worried enough to bother sitting up.

“twist is supposed to go see iggy today.” Slim nods hesitantly. “what are the chances of any of those hyperactive assholes waiting until a reasonable time of day to go there?”

Slim frowns. “low.”

“yeah, low.” Fucking morning people. “they don’t know how to deal with her.”

“but you do, right?” Slim stands up, clearly anticipating what they’re going to have to do. He's smart like that.

“yeah.” Cash stands up, too. “do what you need to do to get ready, then we’re heading over there. meet me at twist’s door in 15 minutes.”

Slim nods, then teleports home.

***

Seven minutes later, Cash arrives on Twist’s porch to find Slim already there. With a nod of acknowledgement, he rings the doorbell.

“Just a moment!” an obnoxiously cheerful Sans-like voice calls. After the click of a couple of locks unbolting, the door opens to reveal Blackberry’s grinning face. The grin doesn’t last long. “Cash. Slim. How can I help you?” Blackberry does not step back to let them inside.

Cash rolls his eyelight. Looks like he's still on the same bullshit as yesterday. Surprise, surprise. “you’re taking twist to see iggy today.”

“Yes.” Blackberry lets some of his displeasure into his voice.

“i’m going with you.”

Blackberry’s browbones furrow into a scowl, before he smooths them out with a shake of his skull, replacing the scowl with a familiar pasted-on smile. “Thank you for the offer, but I really don’t think that’s necessary. We have everything taken care of, so if you wouldn’t mind–”

“who’s ‘we’?” Cash interrupts. If Blackberry thinks Cash is going to let him put Twist at risk again by leaving him to handle everything…

“My brother and I,” fuck, just as Cash thought, “and Papyrus and Blue.”

Oh. That’s… unexpected. “why papyrus and blue?”

The question earns him a slightly more sincere smile. “Well, they’re already here, and they’ve really been an incredible amount of help.” Blackberry let them help? Really? How did they manage that? “And it really is best to have backup in a situation like that – if for no other reason than to avoid any kind of… _incident,_” that look on a Sans is almost enough to send a shiver up Cash’s spine, except that this is _Blackberry,_ so fuck that, “if she gets any ideas about mistreating my brother.” Then Blackberry’s sharp grin softens into something fond and appreciative. “And they offered.”

Well. Shock at someone getting past Blackberry’s overprotectiveness aside, he seems to be skipping over something fairly important. “what is it that you think either of _them_ can do to help with any kind of ‘incident’ that could happen in iggy’s lab?” The snow poffs aren't incompetent, but they really aren't suited for dealing with fellverse business, and this is definitely fellverse business.

“Well, um…” Blackberry fiddles with the door handle. “I suppose that would depend on what kind of incident it was. If it’s the sort of incident where someone really needs to learn how not to treat someone’s brother, but someone else really needs a little bit of help remembering that it’s best if nothing happens to anyone who’s _technically_ responsible for keeping anyone’s brother alive right at this moment, and any sort of retaliation should really wait until all of this is long behind us, then I think it might be very helpful to have someone sensible around who isn’t quite so–”

“–on the other hand,” Cash growls, ignoring the reminder that this particular snow poff has teeth, “if it’s the kind of ‘incident’ where iggy is the only one who knows what’s wrong with twist, so she tries to get away with a few extra experiments that none of you know enough to stop, and she knows you’d never do anything to jeopardize twist's treatment, so none of you are going to do anything to her, then what, exactly, are any of you planning to do about it?”

Slim lays a hand on Cash’s arm, cutting through the irritation that Cash hadn’t realized had built up so fast. With a deep breath, Cash smooths his glare back down to a less hostile scowl. Fighting isn’t going to help Twist.

Blackberry open his mouth to answer, then sighs, shaking his skull. “This is ridiculous,” he admits. His grin loses most of its iciness as he steps out of the doorway. “Come in, both of you. Everyone is upstairs, having breakfast. “Twist…” he grimaces, but forces the words out, “Twist will be glad to see you.” Turning towards the stairs, he gestures for them to follow. “…and Cash, of course I’d like your help with Iggy. She’s impossible.”

Exchanging glances at the strangeness of it all, Cash and Slim shrug and follow Blackberry up the stairs.

***

Twist welcomes his brother back with a grin, talking around a straw. “Heya, bro! What kept ya?”

“These two.” Blackberry flicks an irritated wave behind him.

Twist follows the gesture, to be greeted by a delightful sight. “Patches! Slim! What’re you two doin’ here so early?”

“what do you think we’re doing here?” Cash grumbles.

Slim sits down beside Twist on the bed, giving him one of those sweet, shy smiles. “how are you doing?”

“Just great, darlin’! ‘specially now that yer here.” Slim ducks his face into his hood, smiling. “Just finishin’ breakfast.”

Twist’s attempt to set his empty smoothie cup on the nightstand is thwarted by having a skeleton in the way, which he realizes just a little bit too late to avoid falling into Slim’s lap - but hey, there are worse places to land. He grins sheepishly up at his friend as Slim teasingly pats his skull. “So, uh, not that I mind or anythin’, darlin', but assumin’ ya weren’t really plannin’ ta spend yer whole mornin’ bein’ my pillow, yer probly gonna hafta move me. ‘cause otherwise, I'm probly not goin’ anywhere.” Not that he's in any particular hurry to move, but Slim probably had some plans beyond sitting here all day.

Slim shrugs, gracing Twist with another tiny grin. “i like you here.” He does take the cup, which Twist is rather proud of not dropping in his undignified sprawl.

“Well, then, who ‘m I ta…” Twist catches Blackberry’s eyelights. His little brother looks… not as hostile as expected, actually, but still a lot more torn than Twist would like. “Eh, I’d still probly better get up. Little help, here?” He makes a little effort to push himself up, but quickly accepts it as pointless. Sometimes it’s best to let himself be babied.

And baby him, Slim does. It’s almost uncomfortable, the care with which Slim lifts Twist off his lap and settles him back onto his pillows, tucking the blankets neatly around him. There’s no reason for it; he’s not even hurting, or about to freak out if anyone makes a wrong move, or _anything_ that would make someone think he needs this level of care. Slim just does it anyway, even brushing the back of his hand along Twist’s cheek bone. He's just... the very definition of a sweetheart. It's sweet. And weird. Twist doesn't need this - not that he minds it, it's just... Slim is too good for him. Slim obviously disagrees, but it's weird, and hard to get used to.

At least Blackberry seems to approve, watching Slim in surprised relief. “Well, now that Slim has so kindly stopped my brother’s five hundred and fiftieth attempt at throwing himself on the floor–”

“Hey!” Twist protests. Not that it isn’t true, but still!

“You shush. Now, Cash,” Blackberry nods at Cash with surprisingly little suspicion, “has offered to help us with your lab visit today.” Oh, that. Right. Twist’s soul sinks. Blackberry must notice, because he crawls across the bed to take Twist’s hands in his own. “He’s going to help us make sure she… _behaves.”_

Behaves. Right. As if Iggy doing exactly what she’s supposed to do isn't enough to be afraid of. This whole check up thing sounded like a lot better idea when it was happening in some vague, easily ignored ‘tomorrow’ instead of the very real ‘today’.

“you don’t have to go yet,” Cash points out. “the agreement was once a week.”

“Yeah, but…” It’s so tempting to just not go. No one would make him do it. He’s the one who keeps saying he should. No one else even acts like they want him to. He could just stay home, maybe stay in bed, maybe go downstairs, maybe go outside again. Outside would be nice. Everyone could come back over here for a cookout, assuming they aren’t too busy. Are they busy? Is it a work day? Maybe they could come over for dinner. That’d be fun, even if Twist couldn’t eat most of the food. They could even – hey, Lotus! “How come Lotus didn’t come ta movie night?”

The blank looks he gets suggest he might have skipped a few steps. Oops. He rubs the back of his neck. “Uh… I was thinkin’, maybe we should have a cook out. An’ Lotus should come. Did anyone invite him ta movie night?”

Papyrus and Blue, at least, look sheepish. “WELL, TO BE FAIR, I DON’T THINK ANYONE ACTUALLY _INVITED_ ANYONE. IT WAS MOSTLY JUST WHOEVER WAS HERE YESTERDAY MORNING, AND WHOEVER THEY HAPPENED TO TALK TO ABOUT IT.”

So no one left Lotus out on purpose. That’s good, at least. Not that they probably would. “Not that it’d a been all that excitin’, anyway. I don’ think watchin’ me choke on popcorn is his idea of a good time. Hope it's not, at least." Focus! "But anyway, a cookout! Somebody other ‘n me’s probly gotta handle the grill, an’ the plannin’, and, well, everything, but ya gotta invite Lotus. He’d probly like the offer, at least.”

Blackberry pats Twist’s skull. “That’s a lovely idea, brother, and I’m sure we can put something together soon if you really want to.”

“And Lotus.” Lotus doesn’t always want to join in on some of the nonsense some of the rest of them get up to, being one of the more sensible skeletons, most of the time, at least, and he doesn’t have a boyfriend or husband or ridiculous brother to drag him into quite as much bullshit as, say, Edge gets dragged into, but sometimes that means he gets left out when he might not want to be. Twist is normally happy to pull anyone into as much bullshit as they could possibly want, relationship or not, but he’s kind of been falling down on the job lately. Twist will try to remember to call him, assuming he gets ahold of a functioning phone. Someone should at least let him know what’s going on.

“And Lotus,” Blackberry agrees, “but weren’t we trying to decide whether you should get a checkup from Iggy today?”

“Oh. Uh. Yeah.” Can’t they just talk about cookouts? It’s probably a nice day for a cookout. And for Lotus! As long as he doesn’t bring along any spiders. Fuck, no spiders. No thinking about spiders. Fuck. Focus.

Blackberry looks worried. “You really don’t have to go yet, if you don’t want to. Right, Cash?”

“yeah. iggy agreed to once a week. she’d’ve been happy for an excuse to get you back there more often, but she didn’t insist on it.”

“Not like ya really gave her much of a choice, sweetheart.” Twist squeezes his sockets shut. As much as he desperately wants to stay home, letting Cash kidnap him under the threat of removing her funding isn’t _exactly_ the same thing as agreeing that it’s safe to leave him under the supervision of a bunch of people who don’t know what they’re doing. “’sides, a lot’s happened since then.”

“a lot happened while you were there, too.”

“Yeah, but at least Iggy’d know if I’d managed ta do some kinda permanent damage ta myself, or make the treatment not work, or somethin’.” Magic disruption, critical HP loss, suffocation, broken ribs, body slamming into things – mostly the floor – more times than in any given street fight – none of those things are probably part of the treatment plan. There's really no way to know if something’s wrong. Everything aches, but does it ache any differently than it’s supposed to? Are his memory problems and disorientation better or worse? Does it matter? What about that one attack that lasted all night? Was it supposed to last that long? Was it supposed to fry his skull like that? Did it do any damage that he just can't feel because of everything else that's wrong with him? Nothing’s seemed quite so miserable for the past day or so, but is that just because Twist can finally stop worrying about Blackberry, now that there are other people around to help, and because he just feels more stable at home? For all he knows, the treatment could have stopped working, and that's why he's feeling a little better. Maybe the dose wasn’t high enough? Not like anyone’s ever done it with LV 17 before. Fuck. This could all be for nothing.

There are just too many unknowns. Staying safe at home is not worth the risk. Twist steels himself against the fear. Iggy’s not out to hurt him. Not really. Not enough to matter. Freaking out is just going to make everyone worry. The room blurs as tries to shake those thoughts away, but mostly comes back into focus with a blink. Should it be doing that? It seems like something he should ask about. “I’m goin’. Cookout later?” Maybe it’ll be easier with something other than being tied to a hospital bed to look forward to.

“Definitely.” Everyone nods in agreement with Blackberry. “When would you like to go?”

“Uh… soon? Don’ really wanna spend all day thinkin’ ‘bout it.

“how soon?” Cash asks. “we could go now, if you want.”

“Maybe now. Except…” For the first time in days, Twist takes a good look at himself – ribs wrapped in bandages with spots of blood where he’s re-injured himself, bandages torn in some places, the bones that aren’t covered in bandages bruised and marred with more blood and spent magic. His face probably doesn’t look any better. “Maybe I should clean up a little, first?”

“I can run you a bath,” Blue offers.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Twist barely gets the words out before Blue darts out of the room. He’s really just like Blackberry, in that way – give him a way to help, and he’ll take off with it at a million miles per hour.

“sure you’re up for a bath?” Cash asks, browbone raised.

“Yeah, long’s it’s not too hot. Why?” <strike>boarded in on every side thrashing _hurts_ can’t get out can’t breathe as the lid closes again and again and again every time, tried to be good he tried but it was never enough couldn't ever make her happy make her stop couldn't make her</strike> “‘m fine,” Twist whimpers, shrinking back against the pillow.

“no, you’re not,” Cash snaps. “you don’t need to take a bath. there are other ways to get you clean.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Blackberry says, waving his hands. “What’s all this about baths? Brother? Is there a problem with baths?”

“Baths ‘re fine,” Twist insists. “I like baths.” Not in a soaking for hours with a bathbomb kind of way, not unless someone else joins in, and in that case he’s probably going to get distracted with other activities rather than just soaking in the bath, and showers are usually faster, but baths are fine. He likes baths. He’s not fucking scared of _baths!_

“There’s no reason you should have to take a bath if it bothers you,” Blackberry insists. “Like Cash said, there are other ways.” _This_ is the thing Blackberry decides to agree with Cash on? Treating Twist’s sudden new fear of baths like it’s not one of the stupidest things Twist’s fucked up skull has ever come up with? Who’s scared of baths?

“‘m not scared of baths,” Twist mutters. At least, he didn’t used to be, until some bitch on a power trip decided to push him into one when his skull was already fucked all to hell, tying something as harmless as a bathtub into old memories of one of the worst experiences of his whole fucking fucked up life. Yeah, so, fine, he knows why he’s suddenly scared of baths. Doesn’t mean it’s not stupid. Fucking Iggy. Why does he want to go back there, again?

“no one said you’re scared,” Slim says quietly, nudging Twist’s side. “that doesn’t mean you have to take one.”

“Offerin’ ta gimme a sponge bath instead, sweetheart?” Twist snaps. Shit, now he’s snapping at Slim. He opens his mouth to apologize, but Slim just gives him a gentle smile.

“yes.”

“...Oh. Uh, I guess if yer offerin’…”

“I’LL GO TELL BLUE TO STOP FILLING THE BATH!” Papyrus announces, racing out of the room.

Twist sighs. “’m not gonna stop takin’ baths, ya know.”

“No one said you shouldn’t ever take a bath again,” Blackberry says, surprisingly not commenting on Slim’s offer. Surely his change of heart about letting people help with Twist hasn’t gone _that_ far. Maybe he just hasn’t thought about the implications. “It’s just that maybe right before visiting Iggy isn’t the best time to push yourself.”

“Yeah, bro, guess yer right,” Twist concedes. There’s no reason to traumatize himself before he even gets there. Traumatize himself. Right. Because baths are just terrifying. Sure. Fuck. “But it’s not… it ain’t some big _thing_ now. I got no problem with baths. Got it?” He glares around the room. No one had better let this turn into a thing.

Cash rolls his eyelight, but also puts a protective hand on Twist’s shoulder. “deal with it when you’re not about to go to the world’s most adversarial medical appointment.”

With all three of them insisting on leaving it alone – and, admittedly, Twist is glad that no one is trying to make him talk about it – Twist gives up. Not permanently. There are things in his skull that probably won’t ever be fixed, but baths are not going to be one of them. But for now, it’s probably not worth the stress.

That doesn’t change the fact that Twist is a mess, though. He’s not one to mind a little sweat and blood, but there’s looking a little roughed up from a fight or a good workout, and then there’s showing up on the table of someone who already thinks she’s better than him looking like he’s just crawled out of the dump. Even Twist can appreciate the need for a little dignity in a situation like this. “So… anybody got any ideas other than a sponge bath?” Not that he'd mind taking Slim up on his offer, but now isn’t really the time. If nothing else, that’s definitely going to push Blackberry’s newfound tolerance too far, especially if Twist happens to react in anything like the way the warmth growing in his pelvis would like him to react. Of course, there’s also every chance Twist might ‘react’ in a completely different way. He shivers. Fuck. How long is it going to take to get back to being a functional person? Can’t take baths, can’t fuck… what else is this thing going to fuck up?

Anyway, no sponge baths. Not today. “Anyone got any ideas for how I c’n take a shower?” He might as well ask.

“sure," Cash scoffs, "as long as you can fit about four people in there to hold you up while someone scrubs you down.”

Twist flicks him off. “Yeah, yeah, it was just a question. You got any better ideas, darlin'?”

“we could spray you off with the hose.”

“You most certainly will not!” Blackberry shrieks, whirling on Cash.

Cash rolls his eyelight and starts to retort, but is interrupted by Slim.

“how about a lawn chair?”

“We are not doing anything that involves taking my brother outside and spraying him with cold water!” Blackberry hisses.

Slim flinches, but clarifies. “not outside. inside. in the shower. no hose. just a lawn chair. or maybe a plastic chair. so Twist doesn’t have to stand.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s a wonderful idea!” Slim blinks at Blackberry's sudden approval. “Thank you, Slim. I’m sure we can get ahold of one that’s small enough to fit in the shower – maybe with a towel underneath so it doesn’t scratch up the tub – and it won’t matter if it gets wet or dirty, because it can just dry outside. Papy will still probably need some help staying in the chair, but that would be so much easier than helping him stand. Yes, I think that will work. I’m sorry I yelled. I may still be a little bit stressed.”

“oh. um. it’s okay,” Slim mumbles – probably not sure what to do with a Sans who apologizes so easily and expresses his appreciation a good idea. Clearly, they still have some work to do with Razz. “twist? will that work?”

“Sounds good ta me!”

“You’ll have to sit up for several minutes,” Blackberry warns. “Are you sure you feel well enough to try?”

“‘Bout as good as I ever feel, little bro. Besides, how hard c’n it be ta just sit in a chair while you guys do all the work?”

Sitting in a chair is very hard. It's exhausting and painful, with so much weight pressing down on Twist’s pelvis and lower vertebrae. Just getting into the folding chair that Slim got from somewhere was already enough to start most of his joints burning, although it did make for a nice distraction from Papyrus being the one to carry him. That’s yet another thing that Twist is being stupid about that he needs to get over – especially since Papyrus is the one who can most easily maneuver Twist into the chair in the cramped confines of the shower. Papyrus was even kind enough not to mention the one time Twist freaked out on the way in here.

The warm water is soothing on his aching bones. It might even be relaxing, if he could just lay down in a bath like a normal person. Well, the tangle of skeletons flitting around him probably wouldn’t be all that relaxing, even then, but it would at least be easier to be amused at the occasional collisions, colorful language, and scolding for colorful language that are apparently required to get him clean while keeping him in the chair. As it is, Twist is just grateful that they’re trying to get it over with quickly. And that his shorts don't let anyone see just how irritated some of his joints are getting. Fuck, it hurts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. _Fuck._

The next thing Twist knows, a worried Blackberry is taping a fresh bandage onto one of his ribs while Cash wraps another bandage tightly around another one. There’s no more water. He’s also in a bed. Fragments of conversation drift through a door that isn’t his.

“-here until this load is done, then-“

“-TRY TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE-“

“they’re washing your sheets. you’re in blackberry’s room,” Cash explains, taking a piece of tape from Slim.

“Oh. Uh, thanks, Patches. Why…?”

“Your bed’s as dirty as you were,” Blackberry explains. “We put you in my bed so you wouldn’t get dirty again.”

“Oh. Tha’s good.” Some day, Twist is going to be able to keep track of what’s going on again. That day is not today. “When’d ya do that?”

“after you passed out.” Cash doesn’t even bother sounding indifferent. Fuck.

“Oh. Uh… sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Blackberry sighs, sharing a look with Cash. “Just tell us when we’re doing something that hurts you.”

Apparently, Blackberry and Cash have been bonding over being annoyed at Twist. That’s… good? Kind of? At least they’re getting along. Twist shrugs. “‘m fine now. And 'm clean! Good work.”

“that’s not remotely the point,” Cash growls. “i can’t believe you’re still–” He cuts off abruptly when Slim takes his hand. They share some kind of conversation through looks alone, one that Blackberry must figure out because he joins in with a little added handwaving, but honestly, Twist’s vision is going blurry again, and the whole thing is moving much too fast to keep track of anyway. He's tired. Maybe they'll fill him in later. He lets himself drift off to sleep.

***

A gesture from Slim alerts Cash and Blackberry that Twist is asleep. Slim steps out of Blackberry’s room. The other two follow.

“He needs the rest,” Blackberry agrees, closing the door most of the way with just a crack to keep an eye on Twist.

“that doesn’t look like someone who’s ready to deal with iggy,” Cash says, recalling the way she used Twist's disorientation to get him to go along with whatever she wanted.

Blackberry’s eyelights fill with determination. “Well, that’s our job, isn’t it? Dealing with Iggy while Twist can’t?”

“i’d rather no one had to deal with her at all," Cash sighs. "she’s going to try to keep him there.”

Blackberry’s determination falters slightly at Cash’s warning. “I don't like it either. Maybe we could…” he glances through the crack at Twist’s sleeping form, then shakes his skull. “No. Twist is the one who wanted to go. He’s never wanted a check up in his life. As long as he still thinks it’s a good idea, then that’s what we’re doing.”

“not going to decide he doesn’t know what’s good for him and do what you want anyway?” Cash taunts.

Blackberry glares. “Not going to disappear on us the second you accidentally do a nice thing that might make someone suspect you aren’t a terrible person?”

“oh fuck off,” Cash growls. “you could have called. i would have come.”

“You knew where we were. Forgive me for assuming that someone who never checked in after seeing what a terrible condition I put my brother in wasn’t particularly interested in helping.”

“you insisted you had everything under control.”

“Well I was an idiot!”

“no argument there.”

“But you knew I was being an idiot–”

“i didn’t know how much of an idiot–”

“And you never even came to check! You could have easily teleported over, or called, or–”

“and what, have you send me away again? listen to you accuse me of trying to rape twist?”

“I said no such thing!”

“don’t pretend that’s not what you meant.”

“It isn’t! I just meant–”

“what? what else could you have possibly meant?”

“Not that!” Blackberry takes a deep, calming breath. “That’s not what I meant, and I apologize if it came off that way. I wasn’t in a very good state of mind the last time we spoke. What I meant was… well…”

Cash raises an expectant eyebrow.

“It’s just… look. I know you have… designs on my brother. Of some sort.”

“designs? really?” Maybe it would be easier for Blackberry to explain his point if he didn’t insist on hiding it behind all that flowery language.

“Yes. Designs. And you, too, Slim.” Blackberry includes Slim in his glare. Slim, for his part, looks back with a neutral expression. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at my brother. Or some of the comments you’ve made, like that one about the sponge bath. You’re not subtle.”

“not trying to be,” Slim says.

“so what’s your point?” Cash asks, determined to actually get somewhere with this conversation for once. He’s not going to live his life dodging around Blackberry’s judgement.

“My point is that it’s not exactly… well, proper, is it?”

If Cash has to stand here and listen to another Sans lecture him about what’s ‘proper’, a sharp bone is going to meet the inside of someone’s skull. “proper? you’re worried about what’s ‘proper’?”

“Not… not like that. Not like, ‘oh my, this is all so inappropriate, I’m simply going to faint’. Maybe proper isn’t the right word.”

“then what is the right word?”

“It’s… I don’t know. I really don’t know what to say if you can’t see what the problem is.”

“then maybe there isn’t a problem.” Other than Sanses trying to control everything, which isn't exactly a new problem.

“But there is! How can you not… why are you doing this to him?”

“doing what?” If Blackberry could ever make a bit of sense for more than half a second, that would be great.

“You… look. Do you care about my brother or not?”

“i… what kind of question is that?” Although Cash honestly can’t tell whether he’s more offended by the implication that he does care or that he doesn’t.

“An extremely relevant question, considering you keep insisting that you’re going to help take care of him. And you, too, Slim. Twist doesn’t know how to react to either of you, and I know he likes you a lot but you’ve surely noticed that he does _not_ have good judgement when it comes to these things, and I’m trying not to be an overbearing little brat who won’t even let his own big brother decide who to be friends with, but honestly, you’re being very inconsistent, and I can’t afford to let you keep stringing him along.”

“what, so now you’re asking me what my intentions are? wondering when i’m going to put a ring on his finger? or maybe when–”

“No! And talk like that is exactly why I’m suspicious. You act like you care about my brother, even promise to protect him, but then you do nothing but hurt him like you don’t care at all!”

“when have i hurt twist?” Cash regrets the question the moment he asks it, as more examples than he’d like rush in to fill his skull. “when have i hurt twist in a way that he and i can't work out perfectly well on our own?” That part feels more accurate.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you’ve done to my brother, or how he actually feels about it, mostly because I’m not sure _he_ even knows how he feels about it. Do you really not understand that Twist won’t protect himself? He doesn’t understand that other people don’t have a right to hurt him.”

“believe me, i’ve noticed. or… it’s not…” Cash huffs in frustration at the impossibility of explaining Twist. “that’s not exactly it. he understands enough to get pissed off at people who think they have a right to hurt him, so that’s not it. it’s more like…”

“he doesn’t understand that _he_ has a right to not be hurt,” Slim states quietly.

“yeah,” Cash agrees, as Blackberry nods solemnly.

“So you see why I’m concerned?” Blackberry continues, most of his anger faded.

Unfortunately, Cash does. At least about that part. “yeah. sort of.” But still not enough to make any headway with it.

“it’s about sex, isn’t it?” Slim asks, keeping his voice low. Which, yeah, Cash and Blackberry should be doing that, too, since Twist is trying to sleep in the other room. Blue and Papyrus can’t possibly have missed this fight, either, even if they have decided to stay out of it and focus on their cleaning. But yes, the problem does seem to come down to sex.

“Why do you say that?” Blackberry demands, but in a much quieter voice than he was previously using.

“you have a problem with sex, don’t you?” Slim continues. “you think there’s something wrong with it?”

“Not… necessarily…” Blackberry mutters, not very convincingly.

“don’t tell me this is all about you being a prude,” Cash snaps. He knows Blackberry can be uptight about anything sexual – has used that discomfort to great advantage in a decent number of minor conflicts, actually – but outright banning his brother from having relationships – <strike>fuck, is Cash actually in a relationship? Break down over that realization later.</strike> Could Blackberry’s prudishness, along with his control freak tendencies, really be enough to keep Twist from having any kind of non-platonic relationship? Not that it’s stopped Twist from fucking anything that wants to throw itself into his bed, but maybe there’s a reason Twist never seems to bring them home with him.

“It’s not being a prude to not want people to take advantage of my brother,” Blackberry growls.

“again with the taking advantage thing," Cash snaps. "why do you think anyone is trying to 'take advantage' of twist?”

“Well what else would you call it?”

“i don’t know, sex? fucking? consenting adults doing a bunch of shit together that feels good? why would twist do it if he didn’t like it?

“I don’t know. My brother does a lot of things I don’t understand. Maybe he thinks he has to. Maybe he… maybe he just thinks it’s normal for people to hurt him, or he just has to… I don’t know.”

Cash pointedly ignores the tears that well up in Blackberry’s eyes. He’s not going to think about the implications of that, because the burning in his own eyes doesn’t need any encouragement. Slim bumps up against his side. It helps him refocus on the problem at hand. “has it really never occurred to you that the mostly likely reason for twist having sex is that twist likes having sex?”

“You don’t understand.” Blackberry sniffs, rubbing his sockets. “You don’t know the kinds of things he’ll do if he thinks he has to. You haven’t seen…”

“look,” Cash interrupts, suspecting that he’s gotten a reasonable number of hints about what Blackberry is referring to in recent days. He can put the picture together well enough. “how many people do you meet in your daily life, _now_, who can make twist do something he doesn’t want to do?”

“But… but he still does! Why would he…?”

“i don’t know. i’m not inside his skull. slim, any mind reading powers we don’t know about?”

Slim shakes his skull.

“so there you go. none of us can read his mind. you could try asking him.”

“Have _you_ ever tried to get my brother to give you a straight answer about what’s bothering him?” Blackberry mutters.

“okay, fine. you’ve got a point, there. but _my_ point is that twist is an adult who can make his own decisions. he knows what he wants, for whatever reason he wants it. i’m not ‘taking advantage’ of anything. neither is slim. i’m just not,” Slim nudges him, _“we’re_ just not turning him away.”

“He’s not in his right mind.”

“no, he’s not. not right now. which is why absolutely nothing is happening until he’s consistently capable of understanding the situation and deciding what he wants.”

“Hmm. Nothing? You’re sure?

“yes! what kind of shithead do you take me for?”

“I… I really don’t know.”

“well fuck you, then, because–”

“I’m sorry. I phrased that badly. It’s not that… look. I really don’t think you’re trying to take advantage of my brother. I’ve seen the way you’ve been helping him. Even if I’m not convinced that all of the contact I’ve seen between _all three of you_ is entirely appropriate for the situation, I do believe that you’re actually trying to help. And that Twist wants you both here. You make him happy. And that matters. It matters a lot.”

“so are you done with the accusations?”

“I… yes. For now. As long as you can promise me that you won’t try anything remotely… _sexual_,” Blackberry hisses the word, “with my brother while he’s still too ill to understand what’s going on. We can revisit the rest later.”

“you do realize that no one needs your permission to–”

_“Later,”_ Blackberry insists. “Twist really doesn’t need us fighting.”

“he doesn’t,” Slim agrees – which, yes, fine, they’re both right. No way can it be good for Twist to have to play referee, or to tiptoe around anything that might cause a fight, just because Cash and Blackberry keep arguing like babybones who don't want to share a toy.

“fine,” Cash grumbles.

“So you’ll agree to a truce?”

“sure. not like i’m going to do anything now, anyway. if i was the kind of person who could see twist in this condition and think ‘yeah, i want to fuck that’, you’d be justified doing a whole lot worse than never letting me anywhere near your brother.”

“Hmm.” Blackberry looks thoughtful for a moment, before shaking it off. “Good, a truce it is, then. I’m glad we’ve managed to reach some kind of agreement, because short of giving her something that would have very satisfying short term effects but would do absolutely nothing to make things any easier on Twist, I honestly have no idea what to do with Iggy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, they will be visiting Iggy, dammit! They will not make me put it off any longer, even if I have to drag them there kicking and screaming! No wonder this story is 45 chapters long.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear from you! Comments let me know that I'm not sending this story out into the void. They make me very happy, and they make me want to write more!
> 
> Or just come ramble to me on tumblr at https://rainoverthemountains.tumblr.com/. I'll happily ramble back. I love talking about these guys.


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